Super Hunger Games Bros
by SnowLucario
Summary: Twenty-four Smashers are thrust into a Hunger Games arena. Forced to fight each other to the death, which character will emerge victorious?
1. Chapter 1: Reapings & Training

Chapter One: Reapings & Training

Warning: I like to get to the point, so this isn't going to be a door-stopper.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or Super Smash Bros.

Mario was having a tea party with Princess Peach. The perpetually silent plumber was eating his cake when he suddenly felt a tugging sensation in his gut, as if he were tethered to another location. He looked out past the mountains of Rainbow Cruise that surrounded Peach's Castle. There was no hint of anything. Confused, Mario went back to drinking his tea, but then he randomly disappeared. Peach shouted his name, but Mario could no longer hear her.

Donkey Kong was lounging in his hut in the jungle, looking hungrily at his pile

of ripe bananas. He couldn't wait to dive into them as if they were one massive, yellow swimming pool. He was so hungry. Suddenly, there was a feeling that a string was tied around his intestines, pulling him towards somewhere ehhhhhlse. Wondering why he felt this way, given that he hadn't eaten any bananas, he thought maybe he _should_ eat some bananas. He licked his lips, preparing to begin chowing down. And, suddenly, he was sucked into darkness.

It was early morning at Lon Lon Ranch, and Link was out doing some target practice. He shot straight through a target, straight through the bull's-eye. He was jubilant-this was his first center in a while-when his stomach started hurting. It wasn't like he was about to throw up. It felt more like diarrhea was about to come out. He turned to start running towards the bathroom, but, before he could do anything, he collapsed. Fully expecting to poop his pants, he braced himself for the inevitable wave of embarrassment. But it never came. Instead, he plunged into darkness.

Samus Aran was flying in her gunship above Brinstar. She looked down at the yellow acid rising up, glad she wasn't _on_ the planet. Thinking about who she had to hunt next, she decided to go back to her home planet. Suddenly, her 6'3" body felt like she was attached to a point far away. Before she knew it, all 198 pounds of her plunged into darkness.

A green Yoshi was lounging in a beach chair on Yoshi's Island. He looked at Raphael's nest far away, wondering if he would need to enlist the old Raven's help again. He wondered when he would have to go on a quest again. Hopefully never, but you could never tell. He felt oddly bloated, as if he'd eaten too much fruit from the Super Happy Tree. No-it felt like something was tugging against his stomach. Before he knew it, he suddenly fell forward and lost consciousness.

Kirby was at the Fountain of Dreams, staring into the water of the crystalline fountain. He thought of making a wish there, but he decided to inhale instead. But before he could do this, he felt as though he was being compelled to go somewhere else. Soon, he disappeared into blackness.

It was a rainy day in Corneria, and Fox McCloud was in bed with Krystal. They were making love when Fox suddenly was in internal pain.

"Are you okay?", Krystal asked, seeing her husband grimacing.

"Ugggghh...yeah, I'm fine", Fox said. But he wasn't. He felt as though he were harnessed to a location far away. Before he could say anything further, he disappeared. Krystal screamed.

A Pikachu was doing battle at Pokemon Stadium. The crowd was going wild, and he could tell that he was winning. He was absolutely annihilating the Squirtle that was twenty feet in front of him. The dark night was above them, but it was very bright inside the arena. Suddenly, Pikachu felt a pressure inside his stomach. Before he could do anything, he sank into darkness.

The eight tributes slid into a large room. They slowly regained consciousness. Fox, who had been having sex at the time he was warped, was naked. He was very embarrassed, and started turning from light brown to crimson. A pair of indigo pants and an international orange shirt appeared before them, and Fox hastily put them on. He still looked embarrassed, but not as much so as before.

"So," said Master Hand, "you're probably wondering why you are here. Well, that's really quite a simple question to answer. You were chosen to compete in the 78th annual Hunger Games".

"Uh...what's that?", Fox asked, clearly still trying to recover from his embarrassment.

"I'll explain once the other sixteen tributes arrive. In the meantime, why don't you just speculate on your own?".

Ten minutes later, eight more Smashers appeared. These were Ness, Captain Falcon, Jigglypuff, Toon Link, Lucario, Marth, Falco Lombardi, and Luigi. This tugged on Mario's heartstrings. He didn't want to be here with his e brother, as he could already just _sense_ that something bad was going to happen here. Would they be pitted against each other? He vaguely remembered a story in which teenagers were forced to kill each other in an arena. This did not look like fun. Master Hand told them the same thing about being involved in the 78th Hunger Games, and they seemed just as confused as the first group.

After another ten minutes, the third and final group of Smashers appeared. This consisted of Bowser, Snake, Sonic, Wolf O'Donnell, Pit, Mr. Game & Watch, Meta Knight, and Peach. There was a palpable aura of excitement around the cavernous room now. There sure was a lot of suspense now, at what Master Hand was about to say. He gave the standard briefing to the last eight tributes. Then, he dropped the bomb on the twenty-four Smashers.

"You will spend the next three days training for the games. At twelve o'clock noon, three days from now, you will be sent into an arena. You will kill each other off until only one remains. The victor will receive the ownership of this estate. Here, this is what the house looks like on the outside".

The house was a mansion by the sea. More specifically, it was on the edge of a twenty-foot cliff. It was absolutely beautiful. The Smashers were shown bedrooms with beautiful crimson hangings, a long dining table laden with all sorts of foods, beautiful fireplaces, tennis courts, and exercise rooms. They were just being pampered, like lambs to the slaughter. They'd only have three days to enjoy it. And then, all but one of them would die.

Lucario was using his aura to try to calm himself. Fox looked as if he was about to use Fire Fox to blast away. Luigi was shivering, and his brother attempted to calm him down.

Soon, they were allowed to proceed to the dining room.

Pit was walking into the dining room, and he was overjoyed at what he saw. The wooden table was laden with pizza, chicken fingers, hamburgers, hot dogs, salad, burritos, soup, and fries. There were also beverages; water, milk, apple juice, orange juice, cranberry juice, pineapple juice, Sprite, Fanta, root beer, grape juice, Diet Coke, and Monster. The sun was sinking above the water. It was probably about seven in the evening, and this was likely to be his fourth-to-last sunset outside of the arena. Unless he won.

Pikachu took a slice of Hawaiian pizza, tearing into the ham. He had cheese running down his yellow face. He wasn't one who would struggle with having to eat without being clean.

Kirby was inhaling fries. Meta Knight ate a burrito, looking at the other Smashers, all twenty-three of whom would have to die in order for him to survive.

Fox and Falco clinked their glasses of root beer together, looking very anxious. _Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die_. This was never true more than it was now, for them. They'd faced danger on their wars against Andross, the Aparoids, and the Anglars. But they would not see each other again after these Games were over.

It was a nervous meal, filled with tension. All twenty-four Smashers ate their fill. Then, they went to bed.

The next morning, these tributes threw themselves into their training. There were five Sandbags to practice on. Mario, Link, Kirby, Captain Falcon, Falco, and Pit practiced diving into the ocean without killing themselves. They ran on the treadmills. They practiced tennis. They lifted weights. Soon enough, the night before the Games came.

Before turning in, and after eating their dessert (ice cream, apple pie, donuts, doughy cookies, strawberry shortcake, etc.), the Smashers sat around the TV, looking for their training scores.

Bowser, for his strength and cunning, had scored an 8. His main weakness was how slow he was.

Captain Falcon had scored a 10. He had many of the same strengths as Bowser, but without the weakness of slowness. He had slightly lower survivability, though,

Donkey Kong scored a 6. He was very slow, but very strong.

Falco had scored a 7, because his blaster was very slow and he was not as good as Fox.

Fox got a score of 10. He was very fast and strong. He could also be stealthy. He would be a threat.

Jigglypuff scored a 4. She really only had one thing going for her: being able to float.

Kirby scored a 5. At least he could inhale.

Link scored a 7. He could use his bow and arrow well. He could be a bit faster.

Lucario scored a 5 for his aura ability, but he was weak until then.

Luigi only scored a 2. He was such a piece of shit!

Mario scored a 5. He could use his cape for good effect. But he still wasn't too fast.

Marth scored a 9. His speed and swordplay could be used to his advantage.

Meta Knight only scored a 6. That wasn't that bad, but it wasn't that good either.

Mr. Game & Watch scored a 3. That was how bad he was!

Ness scored a 5 for his PSI abilities and baseball bat.

Peach scored a 6, because of her parasol and turnips.

Pikachu scored a 7 for his electrical abilities and speed.

Pit scored a 6 due to his wings.

Samus only scored a 4. This was due to her suit. _But she had a trick up her sleeve…_

Snake scored a 9 for his military abilities.

Sonic scored a 5, but really just because of his speed.

Toon Link scored a 5 due to basically being a weaker version of Link.

Wolf scored a 5 due to his raspiness and shitty blaster.

Yoshi scored a 6 for his egg-throwing abilities and everything else.

That ended the training scores. On average, those who scored between seven and ten stood decent chances of winning. That really only meant eight of them had a good chance of survival.

The next morning, the tributes rode out in the Great Fox. Krystal had sold it to them for $120,000. According to the people who bought it, she had been cheating on Fox for the last six months. Fox was pretty devastated, but in the unlikely event that he won, he would file for divorce immediately upon his return to Corneria City. But he couldn't focus on the ensuing custody battle over his son Marcus now. Or maybe he should. After all, he would never see his son again unless he won.

Pretty soon, the Great Fox arrived at the arena. As Ness walked towards his launch pad, he was trembling in fear. He could be flat-out dead this time tomorrow. He just really wanted to survive the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. If he could do that, he could win. _Just keep telling yourself that_. The tributes were required to stand on their plates for a full minute before they could make a run for it, either to the Cornucopia or fleeing away from it.


	2. Chapter 2: The Bloodbath

Chapter 2: The Bloodbath

Disclaimer: I do not own Super Smash Bros. or The Hunger Games.

Sonic rose into the arena and let out a gasp.

The entire arena was dark, cold blue water, with mist hanging over. Fifty yards in front of him was a floating industrial platform floating above the lake. The shore was three hundred yards behind him. On this industrial platform was the good stuff. There were backpacks, Pokeballs, umbrellas, Beam Swords, and Super Scopes. The Cornucopia was really a seven-foot gray wall with a hole cut in with the weapons. The island was probably about twenty yards in diameter.

Behind Sonic was a rocky beach, not unlike those found in Maine. Then, a mile bushes, and woods behind them, for a good five miles until mountains were reached. Then, there was the force field barrier. That was the whole arena. The woods looked pretty dense, and before Sonic could think any more about his strategy the gong rang out.

Bowser jumped in, making sure to do as much as possible to reach the platform first. But it wasn't working. He was placed between Captain Falcon and Yoshi, both of whom were far faster swimmers than he was. Bowser hated swimming, but he could do it. Still, though, by the time he climbed onto the platform, he was absolutely defenseless against Yoshi's sword. It stabbed into his side, and, despite trying to recover, Bowser was unable to. He toppled back, with an open wound. In fact, the bone was peeking out. Then, Yoshi swiped once more, and Bowser's skin fell off, leaving the Koopa King's skeleton floating in the murky water.

On the other side of the horn, Luigi and Marth were grappling for a small green backpack that probably didn't contain that much at all. Marth leaned in and struck Luigi in the heart. Mario jumped into the water, still cradling his younger brother's dead body. This was a strategically questionable move, as that was the only thing he had made out with. From a distance, Marth could see Kirby, Lucario, and Ness swimming back to shore. They hadn't even tried to get anything. All they wanted was to survive the first day. That was a complete lack of honor.

Link was dueling Wolf O'Donnell. It was sword versus blaster, and the elf boy was overcoming the wolf. Twenty feet away, Fox McCloud, having grabbed a small purple backpack, jumped into the water in preparation for the long swim that lay ahead. As Link struck Wolf with the killing blow, he felt his younger brother, Toon Link, literally stab him in the back. Link tried to patch the wound, but it was a mistake to jump into the water. This lake was hypersaline, and, given that Link had a gaping wound on his back, it stung so badly that he started shaking. This allowed Snake to blow his head off with his grenade.

Fifteen minutes after the gong had rung out, many of the tributes had fled or died, but there were still eight Smashers duking it out: Yoshi, Samus, Pikachu, Jigglypuff, Pit, Mr. Game & Watch, Peach, and Toon Link. Pit dueled Peach, his crossbow striking her through the heart. Yoshi took this as a cue to flutter jump out of there. Pikachu and Jigglypuff appeared to be fighting together, as if in an alliance. They were going two-on-one against Samus Aran. The two Pokemon easily overcame the bounty hunter. Then Pikachu had an idea.

It had by now been a good half an hour, and Mario was still only slightly more than halfway to the shore. Pikachu's idea was to shock the water, which would instantly kill Mario. As he prepared to unleash a thunder attack, he felt a brush down his spine. Pikachu had just been stabbed. Toon Link. However, the electricity in the lake had killed Mario and Yoshi before Pikachu succumbed to his wound. It appeared that the remaining tributes surrounding the Cornucopia had banded together to take him out, due to being a threat. The remaining four tributes-Jigglypuff, Mr. Game & Watch, Pit, and Toon Link looked around at each other.

"Well, I guess this is ours, huh?", Pit asked them.

"Yes," the three of them said in unison. This would be the plurality alliance of the 78th Hunger Games.

The new alliance collected their favorite weapons from the Cornucopia. This took a while to decide. All four tributes took a large backpack that could hold pretty much anything from a flashlight to a water bottle to first aid supplies. They waited another half hour until the electricity had completely dissipated. They then shoved off into the lake and began paddling back towards the shore.

Meta Knight had taken half an hour to swim back to the shore with his backpack. He was, however, too far from the center to be affected by the electricity. It took him another hour to push through the mile-thick ring of bushes. When he reached a clearing in the woods, he looked inside his backpack. It was now about 1:45 PM, and he was hungry for lunch.

There really wasn't much in there. Meta Knight had gotten a loaf of French bread, a one-liter bottle of water, and a flashlight. Despite his fighting prowess, he hadn't stayed for long, so he had to deal with it. He ate about a tenth of the bread and drank maybe a fourth of the water. He was that hungry. He decided to keep moving. The plurality alliance would be leaving soon. He knew that he had to be far, far away when that happened.


	3. Chapter 3: On The Run

Chapter 3: On The Run

Fox McCloud was sprinting through the woods, covering a distance of perhaps ten miles an hour. As he ran, he heard cannons go off. This meant that the bloodbath had finally ended. He counted nine cannons in total. This meant that nine Smashers had died, while fifteen still remained to play. He kept prancing through the woods, though. He didn't know how far he'd be able to go, but he had to get as far as possible away from the Career tributes-he had decided to call them that, for lack of a better word. And maybe, just maybe, he could find and align with…

"Falco!", Fox couldn't help shouting.

Fellow Star Fox teammate Falco Lombardi was striding into view. His navy blue feathers gave him away amongst the dark green of the pine trees and the brown ground. He had evidently fled the bloodbath at roughly the same time as Fox, since he was here now.

"Sorry about Krystal. Good news is, when you get home, you can divorce that bitch. Assuming you get home, that is. Want to align?"

Fox was tempted to say yes. However, he couldn't get the inevitable out of his head: they could not both survive these Games.

"On one condition, Falco", Fox said.

"What's that?", Falco asked him.

"Once we get to the final eight, we will agree to peacefully separate and will not kill each other. Deal?"

"Deal".

After another ten minutes of running as fast as their artificial legs could carry them, they ran into the iron gray cliffs that went all the way up to the sky. The sun had passed its zenith about an hour ago. That is, if there was a sun. The sky here just, Fox conjectured, move from a snowy gray color to black for the night. Rinse and repeat. No sun. That was it.

Falco asked a question.

"How does this sound?", he asked Fox.

"Mm?", Fox asked back. He'd been thinking the exact same thing.

"We spend the rest of the day gathering wood and eating pine bark. It _is_ edible. We'll make beds on the sides of the cliffs. We'll use our belts as harnesses, and...look, my backpacks have sleeping bags!"

It was true. Falco had really struck Fort Knox at the Cornucopia. His two backpacks contained climbing harnesses, rope, sleeping bags, and hardtack. This was bread eaten by sailors in the olden days. The problem was that it needed water to make it edible, and, well...that was something they would still need to find. "It's perfect", Fox said.

Donkey Kong was the only character from the _Mario_ universe to have survived the bloodbath. He was reflecting on this as he scratched through the bushes, carrying nothing. He had not gone into the Cornucopia, instead opting to gain a head start on the others who had fought it out. He knew he'd need it; he wasn't exactly the fastest Smasher in the arena, and he was also very loud. As he had heard the cannons, he was still pushing through the shrubbery. Now, though, he was clambering up the slope of pine trees, a slope that was decreasing in pitch as he gained elevation, which was good, or else he'd be too exhausted to continue.

It was probably about three or four in the afternoon by now, Donkey Kong guessed, based on how far he had gone. He looked back in the direction of the Cornucopia. No one was there. But there was a new revelation.

Above the Cornucopia was a clock that was counting the minutes and hours as they passed. Right now, it said _15:27:43, Day 1._ This meant it was 3:27 PM, since the arena used military time. This was one thing that would remain consistent; the tributes would always be informed of how long they had been trapped in here.

DK wiped the sweat off of his tie. He'd been crawling through the dirt for three hours, and it had really taken its toll. He would see if he could find any food, and look for a place to camp.

Ness had also abstained from the bloodbath. As he began to set up a shelter using trees he had used his baseball bat to cut down, he began to regret his decision. Without a sleeping bag, he was at the mercy of the elements here. And the elements weren't easy. It was 3:39 PM, but the temperature was probably only in the high fifties. And it would be far worse at night. He only had his one shirt, and it wouldn't do as a blanket. He'd have to come up with something, short of building a fire. If there was one thing not to do in the Games, it was to make a smoke signal for the plurality alliance to track you. That was suicide.

The next order of business was to find a source of water. There was only so long he could go without it. Dehydration could kill within four or five days, and he was already starting to feel lethargic despite having run four miles. He needed to find a river or go back to the lake. And the fact remained that he had nothing with which to purify the water, so that would only accelerate his demise.

After three hours of working, by which time it was 4:47 PM, Fox and Falco had built their home base high atop the cliffs. It was accessible by climbing up the rope system the Star Fox teammates had rigged. Seventy feet up the cliffs were two mattresses hung in place by Fox and Falco's belts. The harness system ensured that, even if the beds fell down, Fox and Falco would not due to still being clipped into the rope. The fall would still probably wake them up.

The two anthropomorphic animals put on their harnesses. One of the harnesses was a full-body one, while the other was just a leg harness. They both decided to have Fox wear the full-body one, because he couldn't fly. Falco could fly only for short periods, but long enough to get to the ground safely. So, this was going to work best. It was still a chore to climb the face of the cliff, though.

Being a pilot, Fox was not afraid of heights. He wasn't a good climber, though. He had had his legs amputated when he was twelve years old. The reason for this was because his father knew that his son would one day have to lead the Star Fox team. When you're sitting still for a long period of time, the blood can clot in your legs, meaning there's less blood going to your brain. With no legs, there was a far lower risk of Fox fainting while flying. And an unconscious pilot was a recipe for disaster.

So, James McCloud had made an appointment with Dr. Leopard. Fox had gone in for surgery, been put under, and woke up six hours later with metallic legs. It took about eight days in hospital before young Fox McCloud learned how to use them as well as his previous legs. He was actually much faster with his metal legs, since Corneria had very good technology. And if it's 2016 on Earth, it's 2116 in the Lylat System.

Because of his ineptitude at rock climbing, Falco and Fox had placed metal rungs on the side of the cliff. These rungs had been in one of Falco's backpacks, and they were about two feet apart. Once they had climbed to the top, they had put down two other rungs, upon which they used rope to tie up the mattresses so that, in theory, they wouldn't fall. They still needed to find food, though, but they would worry about that later.

Sonic had been searching for a place to camp for the night. He eventually found one clearing that looked perfect. There would be plenty of animals to hunt for food, and he knew how to make a fire. Being the fastest runner in these Games, he was the first one to the Cornucopia. He grabbed a four-foot shovel before jumping back into the lake and swimming back to shore. Now, he started digging into the ground. It was just like _Holes_.

After a while, Sonic had created a hole that was three feet deep, five feet long, and three feet wide. This gave him little wiggle room, but that didn't matter. He didn't want to make any noise. There was just one problem: how would he conceal himself?

This question didn't have a difficult answer. Sonic stretched a series of branches across, with small spaces so that he could breathe. He'd have only about three hours' worth of oxygen otherwise, because it was only 45 cubic feet or so. It was nearly six PM, so he had to get in soon. He didn't want to have to leave open spaces, because it could risk him getting discovered, but he had no choice unless he wanted to asphyxiate. He had to do this.

Also, he had grabbed a small brown backpack. In this backpack was a frozen pizza. Of course, there was no microwave, so that was basically just a pizza shit. Pun intended. But there was nothing he could do. He just had to ride it out.

Kirby camped out in one of the taller branches of a tree. He had no sleeping bag, so he simply inhaled all of the birds in a nest and used Copy. He had turned into a Bird Kirby, so he could now fly. He created a nest from which he would sleep tonight, and he would use this as his home base as long as possible. Hopefully, he would not be the first target in case the plurality alliance decided to go hunting for tributes. Which they would, imminently. In fact, it was getting dark (it was past eight) and he was going to try to catch some Z's after the death recap.


	4. Chapter 4: The First Night And Sponsor

4\. The First Night And The First Sponsor

Disclaimer: I do not own either franchise depicted in this story. Sorry for not placing this at the top of Chapter 3.

That night, the tribute death recap came at 9:12 PM, which was during nautical twilight. Ness was kneeling in his shelter as it started. He decided to look at who had died. _Nine in total_ , he thought.

First, Bowser appeared. He was followed by Wolf O'Donnell, Mario, Luigi, Yoshi, Samus Aran, Link, Pikachu, and Peach. That made nine. That was all.

 _So,_ Ness thought. _All the Mario characters except for Donkey Kong are dead. We still have Fox and Falco, Toon Link, Mr. Game & Watch, Pit, Jigglypuff, Lucario, Kirby, Sonic, myself...that's eleven. The other four I'll figure out tomorrow._ With that, Ness tried to drift off to sleep.

Fox and Falco were watching the death recap. By now, they were comfortably harnessed into their beds in the sky. Since their belts were being used to hold up the beds, they had just taken off their pants. They were technically naked, but that didn't really matter. They didn't intend to see anyone. They would only be up in these portaledges, flashing their mattresses, until the final eight. Then, they had agreed to peacefully separate. Hopefully, it didn't come down to just the two of them. If so, Falco didn't know if he could kill his teammate.

So, there were fifteen tributes left. It was the two of them, Donkey Kong, Kirby, Ness, Jigglypuff, Lucario, Toon Link, Pit, Mr. Game & Watch, Meta Knight, Captain Falcon, Sonic, Snake, and one more, Which one was it, again? He couldn't remember. The last 15 tributes had survived the first day. Now, they just had to survive the first night.

About twelve minutes after the death recap, Sonic crept down into his bed. He needed sleep. Desperately. And, if he failed to get any shut-eye, he would be absolutely exhausted and extra-vulnerable. He decided to eat half of his frozen pizza. He didn't have a fire, so he just ate it raw. He drifted off, his last thought being that he had just made a big mistake.

And, sure enough, he woke up half an hour later feeling very nauseous. He felt the sick rising in his throat, and he could taste the pepperoni rising along with the mucus in his mouth. He couldn't delay it. It had to be done.

He got up out of his bed, and began vomiting. He threw up into his bed. He threw up until his throat was raw from it. Soon, he felt a gurgling in his intestine, and liquid diarrhea came blasting out. It was _pure_ liquid. He began running, while liquid shit came out of his butt. He ran until he couldn't run anymore, probably no more than a mile or two. He grabbed a piece of pine leaf and tried to get it down, but it came up immediately. He wondered… _is this the end? Someone, please help me…_. He was severely dehydrated, and sinking into unconsciousness. He only had time to roll over before his whole world went black.

At that very moment, though, there _were_ people who could help Sonic. Monsieur Beauregard was a wealthy man in his mid-fifties who lived above La Coupole, a fancy restaurant in Paris. This restaurant, which was already fairly well-known, had been raised to greater fame from its appearance on _The Amazing Race 27._ Monsieur Beauregard had chronic insomnia, so when it was four in the morning, the tears were pouring. Watching the _Super Smash Bros. Hunger Games_ , he wanted it to be worth the fight for Sonic. What had he been doing for all this time?

Beauregard had been an avid fan of _The Hunger Games_ ever since it had first come out in 2008. When he had heard that Nintendo characters would be in a real-life one, he had almost fallen over himself in order to sponsor Sonic. And, seeing him in trouble like this, he had taken the subway to the local sponsorship office.

Despite having a net worth of over a hundred million Euros, he always preferred to travel like a commoner. He could have ridden his horse-drawn carriage through the city streets, but why would he?

The sponsorship office was located along the Champs-Elysees. Beauregard took the metro to the Place de la Concorde. Normally, he would have hailed an auto rickshaw to the location. However, he decided that a night breeze would be good for his lungs, and he needed the exercise. It was also invigorating, and it would help him feel less tired in the morning. Technically, it _was_ morning, but still.

It was 4:30 by the time he reached the sponsorship office. He showed the cashier his ID. Since he was very wealthy, he could afford practically anything this early on in the Games. He stated who he was sponsoring (Sonic the Hedgehog), what he was sending (three bags of saline and Zofran), and how he would have it delivered (via a holographic medic, who would start the IV line and then disappear). The cashier, a provocative-looking woman probably in her late twenties, told him the cost: twelve million euros, an exorbitant sum even for him. He called his friend (the mayor of Paris, Marco Blumiere, also a Sonic supporter), and asked him to contribute.

It took a lot of convincing, but Mayor Blumiere eventually relented. He used his credit card to contribute six million euros to the cost. This was purchased, and the holographic medic was immediately teleported to the arena; a lake in New Hampshire, USA.

A stinging sensation brought Sonic around. He wondered what it was. Drowsily, he looked around and saw nothing. He then went back to sleep.

He woke up to a sound that could only be described as one flipping a stack of pancakes as quickly as possible. He looked up.

It was only about 11:30 PM; he hadn't slept for very long. He looked a little above him, and, this time, saw what it was that had woken him up.

A tube was taped to his arm. Looking to his right, he saw a metal pole maybe five feet tall. He began to piece the puzzle as he saw a bag of intravenous fluid hanging on the pole. There was only one piece left… he remembered. How did Katniss get the sleep syrup in the book?

Oh, yeah-sponsors! Haymitch had paid Capitol citizens to donate gifts to the District 12 tributes in the arena. So some rich guy had paid millions of dollars in order to save Sonic's life. Some guy cared _that much_ about the blue blur.

This made Sonic feel a lot better, and not just physically. If someone cared that much about it, he had _sponsors,_ plural. This gift was _at least ten million dollars._ Who knew what else he'd get further down the road?

But, for the moment, this was a limiting factor. He was in a pile of his own creation, of golden-brown diarrhea and mucus. All from eating _half a frozen pizza._ How could half a frozen pizza have produced this much bodily fluid? He knew that someone would soon be on the trail, so he had to go somewhere else.

He used to IV pole to stand up. He used it as a walking stick as he headed somewhere else. He walked about two miles in a direction-he didn't care, just _away_ from that pool of shit-and then lay down and crashed.

It got pretty cold at night, Pit thought as he camped out with the other members of the plurality alliance. It was in the high-fifties during the day, but at night? It was probably near freezing. His wings could wrap around his body, but that didn't provide much extra warmth.

Pit was on first watch. That was why he wasn't in his sleeping bag right now. He couldn't afford to fall asleep on watch. Someone else could slit all of their throats. Admittedly, Pit didn't fully trust his three allies. But you had to trust someone in these Games if you didn't think you could win sponsors. And he thought that the others trusted him. If they trusted him, Pit _had_ to trust them.

He could feel himself nodding off, around the time the clock shifted from _23:59:59, Day 1,_ to _00:00:00, Day 2_. Their first twelve hours in this arena were over. The Career pack was just four tributes in a group of fifteen that had survived the first twelve hours. Pit walked around, seeing the other three sleeping peacefully. Pity it couldn't last any longer.

Pit rapped on the shoulder of Jigglypuff, who woke up almost immediately. The Balloon Pokemon could control its own sleeping patterns, so it didn't have a problem getting up to sit sentry. After Pit assured Jigglypuff that there had been no intruders, the former laid down in Jigglypuff's sleeping bag and drifted away.

The third and final bag on the IV stand ran out. Then, it disappeared, along with the needle, tape, catheter, and tracks the wheels had made through the dirt, leaving no evidence that it had ever even been there.

Sonic still slept, though. He was exhausted from all the vomiting and you-know-whatting. He had known that, when he woke up, he would thank Monsieur Beauregard (who he obviously didn't know the name of) for his sponsor gift. It had been a big sacrifice, even for the rich Parisian.

More than thirty-four hundred miles away, across the Atlantic Ocean, Monsieur Beauregard was putting in his disc of _Super Smash Bros. Melee_. He had been an avid gamer ever since video games were invented. He didn't look it, though; he was a skinny man who did not need glasses. This guy's appearance did not scream _Nerd!_

He had 246 trophies. He had completed all of the Event Matches, and was practicing VS. Mode for the dinner party he would have that night. Despite this character's low position on the tier list, Beauregard mained Bowser. It was kind of a metaphor for his life. Beauregard was the boss, always throwing all sorts of money around, but no one could get in his way. His friend, the mayor of Paris, Marco Blumiere, would be coming over. Since Blumiere mained Marth, who was currently third place on the tier list, Beauregard would have to push himself to beat his friend and Smashing rival.

Lucario woke up very suddenly at one in the morning. He had felt a disturbance in the aura, and that was what had brought him back to consciousness.

Someone was coming after him. He had to defend. He created an aura sphere in his hands in order to counterattack. He looked around for who it was.

It was Donkey Kong, ambling through the bushes. Trying to avenge the deaths of his coinhabitants of the Mario universe. That was what Lucario thought anyway. He actually knew this thanks to his aura abilities. Before the ape could reach the Pokemon, he shot the aura sphere.

It hit DK right in the stomach. This allowed Lucario to hit some more jabs until his fur was stained purple from the monkey's blood. Soon, Donkey Kong was dead.

 _Boom_. The cannon went off.

That made it ten dead tributes. Fourteen were left. Surely, others would be waking up soon. He had to hide himself.

When he was a little Riolu, Lucario had had the ability to change his fur color, due to having 3% Kecleon DNA. Now, he still did. So, that was what he did. He changed his fur color to match the nondescript shade of the dirt he had been sleeping on. But he'd spend the rest of the night meditating. He wouldn't be able to sleep after this.

The cannon jolted Fox awake.

In shock, thinking that Falco had died, Fox rolled over and fell out of his bed. Of course, the rope system they had rigged up meant that Fox fell about fifteen feet before the rope caught him. He was dangling fifty-five feet in the air, completely vulnerable in case a predator was nearby. He had almost started to unbuckle his harness when a voice came over the edge of the beds.

"You okay there, Fox?"

Falco's familiar, snide tone floated down to him. After mouthing an answer in the affirmative, Lombardi used the rope to hoist his teammate back up, before collapsing on the bed.

"Who do you think died?", Fox asked.

"No telling", Falco said. "But it's probably not anywhere near us. Even if it is, they'll have a hard time getting up here. We can just relax."

Fox tried to. But there was always one irrefutable truth; every cannon meant one step closer to when the two former Star Fox teammates would separate, and never see each other again alive. Maybe there was an afterlife, maybe something. But right now, they couldn't worry about that. They had to keep going.

Toon Link also woke up at the cannon. Even though he wouldn't be on watch until four in the morning, when the tears were pouring, he didn't think he'd be able to get back to sleep. The sound of the cannon was just so _jarring_. But it wasn't just that it was loud that was what would keep one awake. It was that every cannon meant that someone had died. And the killer could be closing in at that very moment.

The cannon had also woken Mr. Game & Watch and Pit up. Jigglypuff was still keeping watch. So, no one in the plurality alliance had been involved in the death. But who had been?

It was only _01:01:39 AM, Day 2_ , as the digital clock displayed above the Cornucopia spelled out in scarlet digits. Someone had been hunting overnight besides this little group of four tributes. They weren't the hunters. They were the hunted.

The cannon had also woken up Kirby. He was still in bird form, so he could have easily flown away from the attacker. He wasn't concerned in the least.

Snake also woke up at this. He knew that, if someone was coming, he would have to get moving. He didn't, however, want to risk going _closer to_ rather than further from the attacker. There was really only one solution: he would have to stay put and hope no one killed him in his sleep. Snake then went back to sleep.

Ness woke up with a horrible headache. This was really not a good thing, and it was probably due to the dehydration. But it would have to wait until morning, to go hunting for water. He'd be foolish to traipse out into the night in his current state.

Captain Falcon woke up briefly, registered the cannon, and then passed the fuck out again.

Sonic, still recovering from the food poisoning that came as a result of eating uncooked frozen pizza, slept right through it. He needed his sleep.

And then the night continued. Now, only fourteen Smashers were left to battle it out for the last remaining spot in the living world.

By the time it was two in the morning, Lucario had only gotten two hours of sleep. And that was all he thought he could get. He had just killed another Smasher, so that would keep him up for at least a few days. This would not be good for his chances of winning the Hunger Games. He wished he could cut off his aura-sensing organs so that he could get a little bit of peace and quiet.

And almost immediately he mentally recanted this thought. Yes, it could be annoying at times, but his aura powers could be his greatest asset in these Games. If his aura hadn't alerted him to Donkey Kong's presence, he would be dead now. Instead, he was a killer. And he knew he'd have to kill more if he was going to survive. Now, though, he would just focus on trying to survive. It was dark, and, although he had night vision, Lucario still had to be careful in navigating. He just had to stay away from the Career pack.

At three in the morning, Pit decided to head out on his own to search for a source of water, besides the lake. The lake water was not clean enough, and they had no iodine in order to purify it. So Pit just started on his way back to the Cornucopia.

The water saturated his wings slightly, but then he remembered that he could just fly to the central platform. So he just went for it. The plurality alliance controlled the Cornucopia, so he could pretty much take whatever he wanted. He was theoretically guaranteed final four at this rate.

Of course, he was a long way from winning.

He pushed this out of his mind as he searched the Cornucopia for something useful. He could carry a maximum of forty pounds while flying. He could make as many trips as he needed to in order to get what he wanted.

He found a yellow backpack that contained a deck of cards, a small container of iodine, and twenty peaches. The peaches were kind of mushy, but they still appeared edible. There was also a flashlight with no batteries.

On his way back, he realized that the flash of his wings might alert others to his presence. So, he swam on the way back. It took him ten minutes to get back. He then swam back and found batteries to use to power the flashlight.

At _03:57:19, Day 2,_ Pit got back from the Cornucopia with the batteries. He was pleased with this, until he looked into the backpack using said flashlight.

He gasped. The peaches were not edible at all. They were _rotten_. These peaches looked more like dried-up plums. This must have been some kind of cruel joke by the Gamemakers. This meant that they couldn't trust _any_ of their food. Or did it?


	5. Chapter 5: Dawn Of A New Day

5\. Dawn Of A New Day

It was now 5:22 AM as Snake woke from his slumber.

He was camping twenty-five feet up in a tree branch, using his belt to strap him in his sleeping bag, not unlike Fox and Falco. But he didn't have a harness or a rope, unlike those two.

Not that it mattered too much at the moment. His one goal was looking for food. He'd take his stash with him. He really didn't have that much in the way of sustenance, and there was only one way to change that.

He ate a breakfast of bacon strips and tree bark. Then, he slowly slid himself down the tree and took off.

At 5:31 AM, Fox was woken by the sound of flatulence and the lightening of the sky.

Falco had farted in his sleep. Chuckling to himself, Fox said out loud, "You just farted, Falco!"

Falco Lombardi woke up from his slumber. His normally dark blue fur was turning purple, and he was very clearly embarrassed. That was not a pleasant way to wake up, so he did not look happy at Fox. Hopefully, this wouldn't be too big of a problem.

"Sorry, Falco", Fox said. He hadn't meant to be an asshole to his friend. He hoped this wouldn't be the end of their alliance together. But, to his surprise, Lombardi laughed.

"S'okay, Fox", he said. "I think that you just wanted to have a laugh. It'll get better for me. Embarrassment is temporary. Pride is forever."

He stopped, realizing the implications of what he was saying. And, then, the dire reality of this situation struck him. He and Fox were in a temporary alliance in the Hunger Games, and both of them could not survive. And in fact, it was unlikely that either of them would survive. There were still 14 of them left. And the two Star Fox teammates had agreed to separate peacefully at the final eight. This was only a temporary pact. And, if they saw each other again, they would be enemies. Nothing would stop them from attempting to kill each other.

Still, though, Falco tried not to dwell on this. It would still hopefully be a while until it reached this point. And for now, they were agreeing to have a mutualistic relationship. And that was enough for now.

Sonic woke up at 5:47 AM, feeling a bit better. He was still not at full strength, but he was in enough shape to run away at a normal human pace. The IV had done him good. He had an extremely wealthy sponsor to thank for that.

If Sonic could manage to win these Games despite this first, major obstacle, he would find out who had contributed millions of dollars to this gift, and he would give this person _at least_ half of his winnings. And he'd donate another thirty percent to a local hospital.

Sonic decided to stay where he was for now. He needed to conserve his energy for the main event. He wanted to stay alive until the final two. Then, he'd kill the other person. And Monsieur Beauregard would become slightly richer. Well, slightly in terms of how rich he already was.

Toon Link finished his watch period at 6:00. This was a relief. He no longer had to watch over these people. He wondered if he should eventually ditch the alliance. It wasn't like all four of them could win. Only _one_ of them could win. And, yet, there was strength in numbers. The four of them could be much more efficient in terms of gathering food, killing other tributes, and just staying alive in general. Toon Link decided that he would ditch at the final seven if all four of them were still alive then.

He roused Jigglypuff, Pit, and Mr. Game & Watch. For breakfast, they ate bread rolls, apples, and drank some hypersaline lake water. This was, of course, a bad idea, so it didn't make that much sense in order to stay hydrated. But they wanted _something_ to wash it down with.

 _This was a bad choice,_ Toon Link thought as the clock overhead turned to _06:27:39, Day 2_.

Lucario was now trying to hunt down some food. He could go back to the Cornucopia, but that wouldn't be a good idea. Maybe he could get through without being detected by the Careers, maybe not. But it would be risky no matter what decision he made. He didn't have anything from the Cornucopia, so he would wither away quickly if he didn't take a risk. He figured he'd rather go out swinging than let the third strike pass right by home plate. He'd rather die trying to get food than let himself starve to death out in the arena.

So, that was what he decided to do. It was only 6:44 AM, so not many people would be near the Cornucopia. He decided to descend from the hills. He'd run to the lake, and then he'd just swim to the gray platform in the center.

It was four miles to the edge of the dark, saltwater lake. By the time he was halfway there, he had a stitch in his side. He wasn't like Sonic. He couldn't just float around at the speed of sound all he wanted. He had to pace himself.

And pace himself he did. It took him until _07:34:02, Day 2,_ to reach the lake shore. He had to rest for five minutes before making the long swim to the Cornucopia. It then took him, in his state, ten minutes to reach it. As it turned to 7:50 AM, he hauled himself up and looked around.

He grabbed two heavily laden backpacks before shoving off from the platform. It took him twice as long to get back due to the bags weighing him down. And he still had to walk two miles into the woods before he was convinced he was safe.

At _9:18:58 AM, Day 2,_ Lucario sighed with relief. He had stolen food from the Cornucopia without being detected. He used his aura to dry his fur and nearly fainted from the effort. He realized, belatedly, that he should have waited until after he had eaten to use his power. He ate a granola bar (there were only five, but he didn't want to pass out right now). Then, he climbed a tree, used his power to immobilize himself on top of a branch, and settled in for a nap.

Fox and Falco had descended from their studio in the sky after their breakfast. Falco still seemed slightly embarrassed, making Fox feel bad about making fun of his teammate farting himself awake. They had decided to go hunting for food. As they walked, neither of them had any idea of what was going on back on Corneria.

Fox's soon-to-be-ex-wife, Krystal, was in the Cornerian Courthouse with her affair partner, Leon Powalski (a member of Star Wolf). She hoped that her soon-to-be-ex-husband won the Hunger Games. Of course, it wasn't out of the kindness of her heart. She wanted him to find out precisely _who_ she had been cheating with, so that the betrayal might hurt worse. Also, if Fox won a large sum of money, she would get half of it, since technically they were still married.

Leon was wearing a Cloaking Device, which had actually originally been invented by Fox's teammate, Slippy. The reason for this was that it looked bad in a divorce case to have your new boyfriend go to court with you, or even to be dating at all until the divorce was finalized. And then she'd get alimony, and child support, from Fox. It was going to be _fantastic_.

When it was her turn, Krystal got up from the bench without waving good-bye to Leon. Of course, it would have looked pretty suspicious. So she ignored her new boyfriend and walked into the room with the officer.

She walked through a nondescript hallway with blue carpeting. She then saw the papers that she would be signing. And, as soon as she stamped these papers, the divorce process would be set in motion. Just two or so more years of custody battles, division of assets, etc.

At the top of the page it said:

 _Krystal McCloud, 37, of Corneria City, mother of Marcus McCloud, 7, will divorce Fox McCloud, 39. Reason being: spousal abuse._

 _Will seek alimony and full custody of Marcus._

 _Stamp?_

Krystal, with trembling hands (not from nervousness, but from excitement that she was about to be free to enjoy her new life with Leon), picked up the stamp. She took a deep breath, then brought it down hard onto the piece of paper.

If Fox came back, the custody battle of the ages would ensue. If not, she'd inherit half of his property, with the other half going to Marcus. And the best part? Fox hadn't even abused her _at all_. She was just saying that so she was more likely to win custody of Marcus. She could portray herself as the victim of an abusive hubby who had cheated in order to escape.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the arena, Snake was walking through the woods. He was not in the best mood; he knew that he was unlikely to survive these Games. Furthermore, if he survived, he was likely to have post-traumatic stress disorder for years to come, just like Katniss, Peeta, and the others in the books. But he tried not to think about that as he continued searching for food.


	6. Chapter 6: The Note

6\. The Note

Lucario woke up from his nap some time later. It hadn't been a very long time, as the digital clock above the Cornucopia still read _10:11:03, Day 2_. He didn't need to sleep any more. He had recharged his aura fully, or at least enough to function as long as he would need to. Now that he was awake and more alert, he could more thoroughly look through the food he had gotten from the Cornucopia.

In his first backpack, which was black, he found a box of crackers, four apples, a jar of peanut butter, and a note. He'd save the note for after his brunch.

In his second backpack, which was red, he found rice, two bottles of water, and half a hot dog. The spoils weren't great, but you know what? He was going to take whatever he could get. He'd taken all that risk, sneaking out early in the morning and trying to steal food from the little gray island in the center of the lake. He had to make this risk worth it.

Lucario decided tbo eat his half of a hot dog, two crackers, and half an apple. If he had this much three times a day, he had a little over two days until he would run out of food and half to go back for more. But he didn't need to worry about that right then. By that point, there were likely to mean fewer tributes, meaning that he stood less a chance at getting caught. The Careers were bound to keep one person out on watch, but he could evade them, and fight if need be. He'd probably eventually have to fight, it was true. But he had gotten away with it. He could get away with it again.

He was about to zip up his backpack again when he remembered the note. He took it out with trembling hands, wondering what it said.

This is what the note read, in fancy purple cursive writing:

If you have received this note, congratulations. You are formally invited to a feast taking place at the Cornucopia tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM. Only three tributes, at a maximum, have received a copy of this note. There were be food there, lots of good food. You can do whatever you want at the feast. You may turn on each other, or form an alliance with them.

Don't miss it.

Sincerely, Master Hand

Sonic had also received a copy of the note. It had been sent in. He had _thought_ that it was a hospital bracelet. But, it turned out that it was a note inviting him to a feast the following day. He hoped he wouldn't have to fight, or else he was in deep trouble. He decided to pass on it.

The other note was in the backpack that Falco had gotten from the Cornucopia. They read it as they walked through the forest, in search of food. Of _course_ they were going. They'd be stupid not to. Hopefully, they could fend off or befriend whoever they met at the Cornucopia. Of course, one of them would have to die eventually. But they couldn't worry about that yet.

As the morning wore on, Meta Knight thought about his chances of winning. He _was_ notorious for being at the very top of the tier list in _Brawl_ , to the point where he was often banned in tournaments. Maybe that gave him a bit of leverage above his opponents. No matter how he cut it, though, he couldn't see himself having more than a 15% chance of winning or so. The others were just far too good for his own good. He had to try, though. Without hope, he had nothing.

Soon, the clock above the Cornucopia read _12:00:00, Day 2._ They had now been in the arena for exactly twenty-four hours. Ten of the tributes had not survived the first 1,440 minutes. Only fourteen Smashers were left after 86,400 seconds. Of course, nine of these tributes had died in the opening bloodbath, and it would not be reasonable to expect these Games to be over in under three days. That would be far too boring for the audience. Meta Knight knew from the books that if the Games lasted too quickly, that did not go over well for the Capitol audience.

Meta Knight decided to finish off his baguette. After polishing off his food, he was faced with a dire reality; he would need more food, and soon. And the only way to get more food was to look for it himself.

The Career pack was enjoying life at midday on the second day. They had it all, it seemed. Nothing could go wrong. They had plenty of food, weapons, and they were practically impenetrable given that at least one of them was always on watch at night. They had every reason to be confident.

But as we all know, when you're overconfident, it can sometimes come back to bite you in the ass.

It was now _12:11:11, Day 2,_ and Lucario was still thinking about what his strategy would be for the upcoming feast. Would he go in, aura spheres blazing, and fight whoever else was there for food? Or would he try to make peace with them? Whatever he decided, he had to act confident. He needed to have a plan, and he kept thinking about it.

He decided that he would come bearing a white "I come in peace" aura sphere as opposed to a blue "this is _war!_ " one. Hopefully, they would at least appreciate that and attempt negotiations before waging an all-out battle,

He pondered this for about ten minutes before he decided to indulge in another half an apple and cracker. He took one sip of water. Since he only had about a liter and a half of precious liquid, he would need to drink it sparingly.

Eventually, he noticed a presence near him. He had sensed it with aura, and he noticed a cute little critter sitting about five feet from him. It was a ladybug that was maybe two feet long, with a large red, soft shell. It was jarring to see something like this, especially so close to him. He was about to pat it on its back when he saw four others just like it around him, all within a twenty-foot radius. Was he surrounded?

Lucario began nonchalantly walking in the opposite direction and noticed something. They were literally _all over_ the place. In a fifty-foot radius, he counted at least thirty-four before he lost count. There was only one thing he knew for sure; he was ever in trouble, he definitely was now!

They were literally everywhere. He tried to swat them away. And he did manage to get away, but not before one latched onto him. It took three minutes and a quarter of a mile in order to get it off. He was relieved more than anything, until he noticed a crimson circle about three inches wide on the side of his leg. That thing had gotten him after all.

Kirby was perfectly comfortable in his little tree high above the forest floor. He had changed out of bird form for now. He didn't want to overextend his power, or else he would be in big trouble. This wouldn't be a good thing if it happened. So, he had to only use his Copy ability when he absolutely needed to.

Time passed slowly in the arena. Eventually, though, it was _12:49:01, Day 2,_ and Kirby wondered if he should find a different place that he would be able to sleep in, just in case his current sleeping place was disturbed by the Careers, or someone else.

He decided to find a nearby tree, just in case. But it couldn't be _too_ nearby, or else whichever tribute found his current nest would be easily able to get to the new one. So he turned back into bird form and flew nearly a mile away, and then set to work on his new nest.

He spent half an hour building a nice new nest, which he would probably sleep in tonight anyway. He flew back to his first nest and took his other bags back. He then looked at the clock. It was 1:36 PM.

Kirby then went down to the forest floor in order to hunt. He decided to lay down a trail of rose petals in order to be able to find his way back to the nest. He searched for a while, but he didn't find much. He decided to keep looking. After over an hour, he finally found what looked like animal tracks.

He continued walking in the direction that the tracks were pointing. He was very hungry, and only becoming more so. He followed the tracks for about a mile. He then saw it; a deer, sleeping on the ground. All he had to do was inhale him and spit him out. He'd then have a nice deer carcass to feast on, as long as he could haul it back to his nest.

The time? _3:03:22, Day 2_ , the Cornucopia clock said,

As the tributes would soon find out, lots of creepy muttations were stirring around the arena. The ladybugs Lucario had encountered were only the beginning. They were small potatoes compared to what was to come. And there _would_ be more to come.


	7. Chapter 7: Poison

7\. Poison

As Lucario looked at his wound, he was shocked by just how bad it had gotten.

For an hour, he had kept looking for something to bandage it with that wouldn't result in anything dirty entering the wound. Eventually, though, he found a tree with just flat leaves. Not pine needles. Just normal leaves.

But that wasn't that bad. It was going to get much worse. _Much_ worse. As he pulled away his fur from the gash, he saw white pus all around it. It was so disgusting, and he knew, using his aura abilities, that the wound was infected. He only had a day or two if he didn't get it treated. He'd need a sponsor to send it to him. Sonic had been given an IV of fluids from Monsieur Beauregard in Paris, but that was very expensive. This could be even more vital, and this would come twelve hours later as opposed to Sonic's gift. So, he'd have to hope that there were a _ton_ of fans willing to contribute.

At that very moment, it was about 3:11 PM in Rockefeller Square in New York City. The sounds of the city were all around them, and that wasn't all. A furry convention was taking place, with over 21,000 attendees. Some of these were wearing Lucario suits, so they might be willing to contribute.

"There is some news, guys," the leader of this furry convention said.

"In the Super Smash Bros. Hunger Games, Lucario is in trouble. He has an infected wound from getting bitten by a ladybug muttation. He needs very advanced medicine from a sponsor. But this is _really_ expensive. It costs fifty million dollars in order to cure him. A payment of $2,380.96 would be required from each of you. And you know that eighty percent of Lucario mains are furries.

"As you know, you were required to show us your credit cards. This allowed us access to your personal accounts. Using this, that lump sum of $2,380.96 was drained from all of your bank accounts. There will be no refunds."

 _NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!,_ came a massive scream from the crowd.

As a gargantuan crowd of people in fursuits were cheated out of thousands of dollars apiece, Lucario was also feeling the burn from his wound. It was absolutely disgusting, and he was fully unable to dress it. There was only one thing that could save him now, and that was a sponsor gift.

And immediately, a silver parachute descended from hundreds of feet above him. As soon as it landed, Lucario willed his aura-sensing organs to sense what was inside the package. It was medicine for his wound. This was _absolutely invaluable_ _ **.**_ His life had practically been saved by this one guy. He hadn't known just how many people had gotten scammed by this furry convention. In fact, he hadn't even known that there had been a furry convention in Rockefeller Square. All he knew was that he was happier than he had ever been in these Games.

In this package was a single hypodermic needle that he would have to inject himself with. He had to plunge it into the middle of his wound.

So he did it. It hurt _so bad_. It hurt more than anything he had ever experienced in his life, and that included getting fifteen kidney stones on one side of his body at one time. But there was another sensation of it being drawn out. He then put the bandages that were in the package on his wound. Then, he sat up on the side of a gargantuan pine tree and fought to catch his breath.

As Lucario was recovering from his leg wound, Pit was walking around their campsite, seeing if anyone would attempt to attack the Careers. According to the digital clock hovering high above the Cornucopia, it was _15:43:56, Day 2._ Twenty-seven hours had passed since the Games had begun. On average, Hunger Games competitions could last anywhere from four days to three weeks. One time, the 49th Hunger Games, the Games had lasted for three months. The victor had literally lost half of her body weight. It was absolutely awful. And Pit knew that the Capitol audience would not be happy if the Games lasted that long. He should be proud that he had lasted this long, so far. That was better than ten of his peers could say.

As a member of the plurality alliance, Pit's odds were probably better than most. He knew that he didn't have more than a 25% chance, but he hoped that he'd have at least a 15% chance of living to see the Victor's Village back in Skyworld. It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worth doing ever is.

At that very moment, betting was a thing in the real world. In Boston, there was a betting office set up next to the New England Aquarium in the North End. People from across the state had been polled on who they thought would win. The results were thus:

Pit 23%

Meta Knight 19%

Fox 13%

Falco 9%

Lucario 8%

Kirby 7%

Jigglypuff 7%

Mr. Game & Watch 5%

Ness 3%

Snake 3%

Captain Falcon 1%

Sonic 1%

Not a single person polled thought that Toon Link would win, and only three people had thought that the other one would win. The betting odds were formulated thus. There was a slight house advantage, but not too much.

Nick Dunkirk, a thirty-year-old businessman, dropped off a hundred-dollar bet on Falco. If Falco won the Games, Dunkirk would receive a sum of $1,111.11.

The ladybugs were also in another location. It had been another hour or two after Lucario had injected himself with the antidote for the ladybug's venom when Captain Falcon was walking through, looking for anyone he could give a good Falcon Punch to. It didn't take long until he became hopelessly lost. But that was okay, since others were likely to be lost as well. But that might only increase his odds of meeting an unwanted tribute.

When it was _17:17:17, Day 2,_ Falcon was surrounded by the two-foot ladybugs. There were about fifteen ladybugs within a thirty-foot radius of him. He needed to get away. It didn't look as though it was going to be easy, however. There were too many of them.

He had to run like he did in Event Match 33 from _Melee_. That was the only way that he would survive this. He could tell, based on the green goo coming from their mouths, that it would not be good for his health if he was bitten. He had to try to escape.

It wasn't long, though, until he felt a nip at his leg. It brought him to his knees, and the pain was severe. He limped out of the clearing. His eyes were beginning to water, and his muscles burned. This wasn't good, because he had to get out of there before he got bitten again.

Too late, though. He felt another bite, but this wound felt much juicier than the previous one. He walked about three hundred meters before he collapsed into a pile of ferns.

The next thing that happened was that he began to feel dizzy and nauseous. He threw up, and the worst part was that it was green. It was so disgusting that it caused him to throw up again. He then lost consciousness.

It would be another two minutes, his heart fighting against the poison, before the cannon sounded. Captain Falcon was dead. There were now thirteen Smashers still left. Unlike Lucario, Falcon had had no rich sponsors to send him medicine to help against the poison. He just died.

Fox heard a cannon. He wondered who had died, and who, if anyone, had killed them. This would be good for him or Falco.

 _But no, it wouldn't_. He again remembered that only five more Smashers would die before he would leave Falco, never to see him again alive. Maybe there was some kind of afterlife, but again, he couldn't worry about this at this time.

Falco asked him, "Who do you think this cannon was for?"

Fox had no answer for that. All he was thinking about was the upcoming bad news…

"I mean, Fox, this could directly affect how the game goes. If it was one of the Careers, then there are likely to be more deaths soon. If not, that gives the plurality alliance more power. There's four Careers, the two of us, and then maybe a third, if whoever got the note for the feast tomorrow is still alive. Maybe we _could_ attempt to align with them?"

"My guess," Fox said, "is that it might have been Sonic. I heard him running while shitting diarrhea. He's probably very weak by now, if he's still alive. We'll try not to worry that much about it. It's just about _us._ "

Lucario was startled by the cannon. He readied an aura sphere, just in case there was an attacker nearby. He held it for five minutes, and, convinced there was no one near him, then decided to retract it. He was safe for now. His wound was, by now, nearly gone. The only thing left was the injection site, which was still a little purple. It hurt a bit, and it was hard to run. He would have to find some way to camouflage.

There was a feast in the morning. He would meet whoever else had been invited to the feast, and he would attempt to align with them. The split would then be 4-3-1-1-1-1-1-1, as far as he knew. There were now eleven Smashers dead. Thirteen left to play the game. He just hoped that he wouldn't end up on the bottom of his new alliance. Maybe he could push his way to the top. But that could mean he would either be fifth or seventh, assuming that it worked like it did on _Survivor_. But it didn't. It obviously didn't. And there was still no evidence that anyone else was in an alliance right now. So he would try to relax for now.

Ness heard the cannon as well. Because he was severely dehydrated, the boom caused a horrendous headache. Worse than he had ever had, even when he had been sick with the flu back in Onett. Not even when he had had sunstroke in Scaraba. He had only been dizzier on one occasion, in the Lost Underworld, during the war against Giygas.

He thought back to what that had been like. After falling through the hole in Lumine Hall, at the end of that dark purple corridor, he'd been in freefall for what felt like years. Eventually, he plopped down on a patch of chartreuse grass. For a minute, he thought that he was dead. He might have been unconscious for part of the time he fell. Maybe that was why it felt like years. He might have kept passing out.

He was surrounded by palm trees and saw a blue geyser in the distance, perhaps five miles away. This was a massive landscape, and, despite there being no visible sun, it was brutally hot. He was on top of a hill, and the sky, which was a bright white color, was a few thousand feet up. And he could see the whole landscape, perhaps thirty miles across. Based on the shock from the size of the massive landscape, he felt like he might faint again. It took a look from a giant purple dinosaur to shock him into action.

And he ended up in battle again. But that was another story.

But in any case, he had made it to at least 13th place. But he might not make it beyond thirteenth if he didn't find water, and soon.

Like Katniss Everdeen before him, Ness had to accept the reality that the only cure for what ailed him required searching on foot. And this would only become more difficult the longer he waited.

Ness, this young boy from Onett, had to keep going. He had to find a source of water.

It was about an hour and a half before Ness found his salvation. This might not have been what would save him eternally, but he did find water. There was only one problem.

It was dirty, disgusting brown water. And he had nothing to purify it with. There was one thing, though, that just might be able to clean it…

He had no choice. Ness spat into the water, creating bubbles. He waited an agonizing half-hour before taking the first sips. It was heavenly on his dry throat and cracked lips. It wouldn't take long for him to start feeling better.

Now, there was nothing to do except wait for the daily death recap. It was, according to the Cornucopia clock, _19:56:11, Day 2_. In just over an hour, he would find out which two tributes were no longer in the running.

Lucario's wound was almost gone. As stated above, the only trace of his wound was the injection site, still a two-inch purple stain on his normally cerulean fur. It wouldn't be too long until he gained more information about who was still alive. And then, in the morning, the feast.


	8. Chapter 8: The Feast

8\. The Feast

Disclaimer: Snowlucario's bank account is as white as snow in terms of money he gains from these stories.

The death recap came at nine o'clock PM on the dot, as Snake was settling in for the night. It showed Donkey Kong and Captain Falcon. That took out two big threats, Snake decided. Falcon would have been a bigger threat, so he was glad that the F-Zero racer was gone. Eleven had died; nine on the first day, and two on the second. At this rate, it might be another week or so until the Games were over. Snake thought that he could survive this. He'd gone through far worse on his missions.

Toon Link was glad that two more tributes had died. But, at the same time, it ticked the clock a bit closer to the time that his alliance would turn on each other. And, he worried that due to his swordplay and skill with a bow and arrow, he might be first in line for the Grim Reaper. Maybe he _should_ ditch his alliance. It might be one of his last chances to do so. But he wouldn't be able to make a decision without sleep. And he'd have to make a decision. He remembered a quote, something Hephaestus had said in _The Battle Of The Labyrinth_ : "Daybreak is a good time for decisions". That was true. Toon Link's decision on what to do could wait until the morning.

Fox still appeared bothered to Falco, but he seemed more able to function today. They were once again back at their "sky-beds". They had harnessed themselves in at about 8:30. They watched the death recap. Captain Falcon and Donkey Kong were dead. Thirteen were left. Only five left until the alliance would end.

Falco didn't know if he'd be able to turn on his friend. If it came down to the two of them, he might let Fox win. The custody battle back on Corneria would be one to remember. He didn't want Marcus McCloud to be stuck with that asshole Krystal. She _was_ a slut.

Lucario had watched the death recap with interest, noting the two deaths: Donkey Kong and Captain Falcon. He then went to sleep, waking up in the morning to what he had decided to do today; head to the feast. At _07:23:53, Day 3,_ he set out from his sleeping spot and began walking towards the Cornucopia.

At the same time, on the other side of the gray island, Fox climbed off the edge of his bed. He then rappelled down the cliff, using his artificial legs to get a boost going down. He abseiled down the edge of the limestone face as quickly as canine-ly possible, and then waited for Falco to do the same. They then set out, wondering who this challenger approaching was.

Lucario reached the Cornucopia at 8:04 AM. However, there was no food there. He assumed that this was because the other surviving parties were not there yet. They were theoretically ensuring either another alliance or a second bloodbath, both of which would be interesting for the Capitol alliance.

Just as the Pokemon was about to leave, Lucario's aura detected splashing in the lake behind him. He turned to notice Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi swimming through the lake towards him. Lucario debated whether to run or attempt to befriend them. Before he could be a hundred percent sure, the Star Fox team members clambered onto the floating industrial platform and asked to talk.

Lucario kept an aura sphere at the ready just in case. Fox and Falco did not appear to have any problem with this, as they both knew Lucario was paranoid.

His aura sensed that these two did _not_ want to fight.

"So...how's it been going with you?", Lucario asked tentatively.

"It's all right," Fox said. "Hey, what's that on your leg?"

Lucario looked down. Ever since he'd been bitten by the ladybug and injected with the antidote, the bruise had gotten smaller, but it was still about an inch wide.

"Did you see the ladybug muttations back in the forest?"

"No," Falco said.

"Well," Lucario said, "there were these massive ladybugs. I swear they were two feet long! One of them bit me. And they're very poisonous. I thought I was going to die. Then, a sponsor bought me medicine. I gave it to myself, and I'm completely cured! That must have cost a lot of money". He chuckled at that last part. He owed some rich person many millions of dollars.

After agreeing to share the feast together, but not to align long-term, the three sat down at the dining table that had been set up inside the Cornucopia.

This table was made of marble, like what would be found in a rich family's home. It was laden with pizza, pasta, garlic bread, salad, and apple crisp. It was a full-blown Italian wedding feast! Lucario dug into a chicken parm sandwich.

Fox took a bite out of a slice of pepperoni pizza. "Well," he said, "we're down to thirteen now. I think that a cannon in the middle of the night would have woken one of us up. I know Falco would have woken me up if one went off. So I think we can safely assume that no one died last night".

Lucario had reasoned the same way. "Yeah".

Falco then launched into a discussion at how they had survived the last two days. They had rigged up a rope system so that they could sleep on the edges of the cliffs. They had a pact to work together, but it would only last until the final 8. Then, they would peacefully ditch each other.

"Wow", Lucario said. "You've really thought of a lot in order to stay alive".

"Yes", Falco said, "a lot of consideration has been put into our plan. But we're not looking for any more allies right now. We're good".

Lucario was fine with that, too. He wanted to go the rest of the way on his own. He didn't want any of the ethical gymnastics involved with having to eventually ditch or kill any allies. He didn't need to deal with that. There was enough to deal with as it was.

For the next twenty minutes, Lucario, Fox, and Falco discussed things related to the Games. They ate some more Italian food, to the point where Lucario was feeling ill. He didn't want to throw up right now, because it just wouldn't improve his odds.

When it was _08:36:22, Day 3,_ Fox and Falco bade goodbye to their Pokemon...acquaintance, and then swam towards the shore. Lucario then went off in the opposite direction. And, as his fur hit the cold water, he thought about how hard it would be to go back to eating pine bark after such a luxurious feast.

This wouldn't be a fun day. His stomach hurt a lot from the pizza and pasta, and the apple crisp was not sitting well in his stomach.

It took twenty minutes to reach the opposite shore. He was feeling so ill that he immediately vomited all over the rocky beach. Throwing up was not a fun experience. It was literally one of the most unpleasant things that anyone could ever feel, and that wasn't the only bad news.

The vomit might lead more people in his direction.

Lucario wasn't the only one having stomach problems.

Ness had woken up with nausea and horrible diarrhea. He felt like he was going to throw up, and it didn't take long for him to be able to guess what had gone wrong.

He shouldn't have drank the water from the spring. Not without iodine. But he hadn't been brave enough to run into the Cornucopia, because he didn't want to die on the first day. He'd traded a death on the first day for a death on the third day.

By 9:07 AM, he was definitely worse off than he had been before getting the water. It was not going to look good for the audience, and he was unlikely to get any sponsors anytime soon. Based on this, he would have to find a way to get by himself. He needed to go back to the Cornucopia.

Sonic was feeling better than he had the previous day, the saline solution running through his veins. He would have to stay away from other tributes as much as possible, because he was still in no shape to fight. And he couldn't run that quickly. So he was just going to dig another warren to hide in, and sleep in at night. He would not eat the other half of his frozen pizza. He didn't think that he could get another sponsor to save him, this time. He'd gotten ridiculously lucky two nights ago. He couldn't count on it again.

He decided to start digging at around 9:19 AM. Again, he was still weaker than normal. It was about 10:04 AM by the time he'd gotten a hole a foot deep and two feet long. At this rate, it might take about two more hours to get the hole large enough to sleep in.

Fox and Falco were walking through the woods, hunting for other Smashers to kill. Their blasters had been confiscated before entering the Arena, so they couldn't really do any ranged kills. It was the same deal with their headsets. Their special legs were surgically implanted, so they couldn't change those. But the Capitol and Master Hand had done everything they could so that no tributes would have an unfair advantage over their competition. The Capitol audience, as well as the rest of the world, would not like this.

If they caught five tributes, they would leave each other. If they failed to catch any, then they would still be together for at least another day or two. Falco looked into his Star Fox teammate's tortured eyes.

He knew that Fox McCloud was tortured about Krystal, and her betrayal.

Some time later, Sonic had completed his digging. By now, it was almost noon, and he'd been in the arena for nearly forty-eight hours. Two days. That wasn't much shorter than the third Quarter Quell had lasted. Granted, those Games had been cut short by the District 13 rebels blowing the force field, with six tributes surviving. Sonic only had to survive another kill until he was in the top half of tributes. He'd been an underdog ever since that first night, where he had nearly died of dehydration due to eating that frozen pizza. As the Cornucopia clock struck noon, that was the clincher. Two days. Exactly two days.

Ness was still vomiting and diarrhea-ing, if that word could be used as a verb. He knew that he was approaching dangerous levels of dehydration. Had he been back in Onett, his mother, Melissa, would send him to the ER, given that he had been sick out of both ends for seven hours or so. From 5 AM to 12:08 PM, liquid was exiting from both orifices. He needed a rich sponsor.

Of course, he wasn't aware of the gift Sonic had gotten roughly 36 hours earlier. It had cost Monsieur Beauregard six million euros, and that had only been half of the price of the intravenous fluid. So now that they were on the third day of the Games, it was bound to be far worse. _What buys a full meal on day one buys a cracker on day twelve._ He remembered this quote from _The Hunger Games_. At this point, it was bound to be thirty million euros, at least.

But after another hour or so, Ness was feeling delusional. It was to the point that, at _13:10:23, Day 3,_ he collapsed, unconscious, to the ground.

Five minutes later, his heart stopped beating. And, five minutes after that, the cannon went off. Ness was dead.

The cannon went off as Pit was gathering two more backpacks from the Cornucopia. It was 1:20 PM, and he was wondering who had died.

In any case, the plurality alliance was still four people...probably. He didn't hear any cannons in the ensuing ten minutes, so it was unlikely that anyone in the Career group had died. There were twelve people left. A third of them were Careers. They sure had a lot of power now. There might still be a pair or two out there, but, for the most part, they were the only organized group that he knew of. They should just try to stay alive and hunt down other tributes.

All he wondered was how long it would be before the alliance would be null and void, and they would begin to turn on each other. Or should they separate now?

The Careers weren't looking. Pit had a thought, suddenly. He started jogging in the other direction. He ran away and flew as quietly as he could. He wasn't going to want to see any of them again, after ditching. _Did he really want to do this?_

It was too late to change his mind, anyway. He was already halfway across this side of the lake, so he continued flying away. He hit the shore and just started running.


	9. Chapter 9: The Storm

9\. The Storm

Fifteen minutes later, Jigglypuff looked around herself. Mr. Game & Watch and Toon Link were still there. It was 1:37 PM, and Pit was nowhere to be found.

"Wake up, guys!", she shouted. "Pit's gone!"

Toon Link groggily woke up, looking confused.

"Pit left!", Jigglypuff repeated.

"Well," said Toon Link, "there's only twelve tributes left, so that's the way it's gonna be. The more people die, the less stable alliances become. And for good reason. He didn't want to kill any of us".

"Yes", Jigglypuff said, "and I think that the three of us can still command some power in this game. We still control a quarter of the manpower of the arena. Besides, you don't want to have too large an alliance. The larger the plurality alliance is, the less stable it will become, and the more likely they will turn on each other before it's just them left".

With Pit gone, they no longer had anyone to fly over the lake. That wasn't true, actually. _Jigglypuff_ would now have to be the one to fly over the lake to the Cornucopia.

"I'll get some more food", Jigglypuff said.

She began floating above the lake.

Lucario was still nauseous, but he had stopped vomiting by now. That was the good news. The bad news was that his puke could be used to find him. Which meant he needed to get away.

He began power-walking away. He couldn't jog, let alone run, because he was too full from all of the food. He estimated that he'd eaten four slices of pizza, three bowls of pasta, five slices of garlic bread, and probably three servings of apple crisp. And quite a bit of salad, as well.

He added up the calories. Four slices of greasy pepperoni pizza, maybe 400 calories each, so that was sixteen hundred. Big bowls of pasta, too, so maybe another fifteen hundred. 750 calories of garlic bread, etc.

Overall, five thousand calories was a conservative estimate as to how much he had eaten this morning at the feast table. Fox and Falco would also have a hard time climbing back up the rock face.

Of course, he probably had not really gained that much. Not after puking it all up.

After a long time hiking uphill at a fifteen-degree angle, Pit had reached an area about three miles away from the lake shore. Given that it was now 3:11 PM, and the radius of the arena, not counting the lake, was about five miles, he would take maybe another hour and ten minutes to reach the edge.

But he didn't want to get _all_ the way to the edge of the arena, with the limestone cliffs. He could get boxed in by his former allies. And he didn't want that. He was sure that the Career alliance would show him no mercy should they run into him again. Therefore, his primary goal should be to stay away from them. He had taken one backpack when he had left the camp, so he did have a bit of food. He opened it, revealing half a cold sandwich, a bag of Cape Cod potato chips, and a dried apple. This was not exactly a feast, but it would have to last him...as long as it had to last him. This was circular reasoning, but it had to work...but it had to.

Where would he sleep tonight?

It was _15:27:39, Day 3_ when Fox and Falco, having been walking around the arena hunting, finally arrived back at their sky man cave. Their harnesses were still at the bottom of the rope as always, and they looked completely okay.

Still, Fox had a growing sense of uneasiness. Something was wrong here.

And, almost immediately, he realized what it was. He felt a drop of rain land on his head. Had he actually been wearing his headset, this could have severely injured him. But he was okay, because it had been confiscated at the beginning of the Games. Before he had been given his headset as a gift for his twelfth birthday, he had often enjoyed playing outside, only to feel a raindrop land on the bridge of his nose. And then it would start pouring.

That was exactly what happened now. The rain started coming down, and Falco asked Fox, "Should we get up there?"

"I don't see why not, Falco", Fox said. "I think that we should definitely put some protection up there. Do you have any...metal equipment in your backpack?"

Falco produced a metallic rope. They could construct a wall around their beds using this. The electricity would be conducted around, rather than through, the anthropomorphic animals. They could be safe...unless they fell. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen.

Both furries had spent a considerable amount of time vomiting and diarrhea'ing out the Italian feast from this morning. They weren't used to that much food, and Falco had had to get rid of one of his pairs of briefs because he needed to use it as toilet paper. But they couldn't worry about it right now.

These two climbed up the limestone cliff and clambered onto their beds. They then started to work on their lightning guard. By the time they had finished, it was _17:47:13, Day 3._ It had taken over two hours. They just laid there, making small talk about Corneria, and everything else. The storm reminded Fox of Venom…not a pleasant memory.

Even being comfortably harnessed into a bed seventy feet in the air, Fox's memories of Venom frequently clouded his mind. When he was 18, he had gone on a mission to defeat Andross and save Corneria. He'd gone with Falco, his father's former teammate Peppy Hare, and his annoying classmate at the flight academy, Slippy Toad. It was a strategically questionable decision to send four inexperienced pilots into Venom and think that that would turn the tide of the Lylat Wars, but that was what happened.

They had had a lot of bad things happen. The Cornerian Army's base on the ice planet Fichina was blown up after Star Wolf escaped. In Sector X, Slippy had been shot down by Spyborg and crash-landed on the planet Titania. Even so, they got through the Bolse defense satellite, and they defeated Andross. Fox returned to Corneria and collected his reward, a sum of $49,024. But the worst was, in fact, yet to come.

Three days after returning home a hero, Fox had a scary experience during a cleanup mission. He was on a garbage barge in Zoness, trying to clean up the former tropical paradise that Andross and his army had (literally) trashed. Suddenly, he noticed the darkening sky turn brown in a point, and he saw a face.

It was Andross, laughing very audibly, with a tone that chilled Fox down to the bone. Fox took ten seconds to register the following three things:

The Andross Fox had destroyed was a robot.

The real Andross was still alive.

Fox had to go back out there and defeat the real monkey.

So, that's what they did. They had had a scare in Sector Z, when six Copperhead missiles were launched at the Great Fox. In a nail-biter battle, the Star Fox team had managed to take them all down. They had then had to go through the Area 6 battle zone, taking down all of Andross's fleet. After fighting Star Wolf once more, Fox defeated Andross, and then destroyed his brain form.

The most shocking part was that the base began exploding all around him. This made Fox think (no, he _knew_ ) that he was done for. The last thing Fox registered was, " _If I go down, I'm taking you with me!"_ Then, everything went black briefly, but he vaguely remembered screaming.

He woke up seconds later to his deceased father appearing. James McCloud, who had died five years earlier attempting to defeat Andross, guided Fox out of the base just before it exploded. Fox was left in a weird state emotionally, and wondered if he'd been hallucinating.

On the way back from Venom, Fox had come down with an extremely violent stomach bug. He had passed out from the dehydration and woken up in a hospital room in the Area 6 battle station. It turned out that Andross's last act was to curse Fox with a gastrointestinal illness just _in case_ he made it out alive.

A Cornerian Army doctor, Horse Garnet, had gone the rest of the way with them, to make sure that Fox stayed adequately hydrated and survived the trip home. Fox made it back, and was still ill for another week. Finally, after two weeks of this, he had received his true reward: $166,336.

Even now, many years later, Fox still occasionally questioned his sanity. He had never told anyone, not even Krystal, about his hallucination, if it really was one. He certainly wouldn't be telling her _now._

Elsewhere in the arena, Sonic was walking barefoot. He was looking for a place to camp for the night. At this point, he was pretty much fully recovered from his illness, except for the fact that pizza would be forever ruined for him if he did win.

He was walking relatively carefree-ly when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his foot, as if he had stepped on a nail. Now, he'd need a tetanus shot as well. Two needles in three days, from two sponsors, or maybe the same one if it was a super-rich person. Which it probably was.

Upon closer examination, though, it turned out that he'd simply stepped on a wasp. The difference between bees and wasps is that bees only sting once, and it kills them to do it. Don't ask me why they do, then.

Wasps, on the other hand, can sting as many times as they want, and, unlike bees, who normally leave you alone if you leave them alone, will sting for fun.

Guessing that the rain must have woken them up, Sonic moved on until he started to feel dizzy. He felt more stings, all over his waist, stomach, legs, and ears. Soon, he started hallucinating about Tails, Dr. Robotnik, and other things. Soon, he collapsed, and the abyss took over.

As the cannon fired, signaling another death in the arena, Sonic was oblivious to the fact that he'd just been stung by a swarm of tracker jackers.

Back on Corneria, Krystal was watching the Hunger Games live with Leon. She saw her soon-to-be-ex-husband, Fox McCloud, setting up a lightning barrier for their shelter in the sky. She hoped he died. It would be better for her that day.

She recalled Fox beating her one night, a wild look in his eyes. She figured that that constituted grounds for divorce. She'd also been raped by him several times. The worst part was that Fox claimed to have no memory of doing any of these things, but she knew that he was lying. She knew the tactic of abusers in relationships, and, before the pattern of domestic violence could repeat once more, she took advantage of Fox leaving for the Hunger Games to file for divorce so that she'd have an advantage in the upcoming custody battle.

As she kissed Leon's scaly face, neither of them were aware of the reason her husband was so violent. In fact, it had nothing to do with his personality, and he would never have hit her of his own free will. Unbeknownst to anyone, Andross had, with his dying breath, cursed Fox to have blackouts, during which he would commit domestic violence against any future romantic partners.

"Falco," Fox said. The cannon signaling Sonic's death had just gone off, stirring both of them into action.

"Yes, Fox?", Falco said.

"I think I just figured out the reason Krystal cheated on me. Remember after we defeated Andross twenty-one years ago?"  
"How could I forget? The entire Venomian base exploded and you got the worst stomach bug ever. What about it, though?"

"Well, Andross had cursed me with his dying breath. What if...Krystal isn't lying about domestic violence?"

"Wait... _domestic violence?! What did you_ do _to her?!_ " , Falco spat out.

"She claimed that I'd beaten and raped her. I have no memory of this. What if…", he stopped, but Falco could tell that he had been about to say, _What if Andross cursed me to be an unconsciously abusive husband?_

"Even if you win and come back, and tell her what it was, she'll never trust you again. You know that, right?"

"Yeah", Fox said. "My marriage is over, no matter what. I have no chance at even 50/50 custody. The best I can hope for is supervised visitation rights, but maybe not even that. Corneria has strict laws about this".

It didn't look good, but luckily, there were still eleven Smashers left. Their numbers were way down, but the odds were still against either Star Fox team member returning to Corneria alive. Not to mention their pact to separate eventually…

Snake was still alive, but he knew that the Careers were not far from him. He saw the three members of the plurality alliance all camping together, eating dinner by the beach, four hundred yards from the Cornucopia. The clock read _18:27:45, Day 3,_ meaning that in about two and a half hours, the death recap for the day would occur. They would find out which thirteen tributes were dead, and which eleven were still alive. Then, the night would set in, and they would try to sleep until the morning. It wouldn't be easy to get that much shut-eye, considering that the Careers were still out for blood, but it would be important, and it would only become more so as the Games went on. It was only day three, and over half the tributes were dead. These Games were going fast.

Lucario was settling into a sleeping bag inside of the Cornucopia. He had decided to swim in there in order to escape the lightning storm. There was some danger in this; if the Careers discovered him, he could be dead. Thankfully, his aura vision could tell him when another tribute was close by. And he'd try to create a way to defend himself. There were still some swords left in the Cornucopia, so he could use one of those. The Careers could be in for a nasty surprise come morning. Using this, he would try to get some sleep. But first, he would look up into the sky and see who had died. Two of them had gone today. He'd just have to find out _which_ two.

By the time it was 8:27 PM, Pit had built a satisfactory shelter for himself. He was trying to stay away from the plurality alliance, because if caught, he was pretty much a hundred percent dead. This plurality would not be happy with his desertion.

Pit waited for about another half hour until it was precisely 9:00 PM, which was when the death recap came on. Two tributes had died: Ness and Sonic. Pit hadn't thought that either of them were threats, so he wasn't that happy with the fact that the last two deaths hadn't been Careers. But he just tried to brush it off and go to sleep.

Lucario was still hiding out in the Cornucopia, which he knew would give him a good chance of survival. Eventually, though, he would need to worry about food. Pretty much everything had been cleaned out of the gray island, so it was just weapons. However, it was probably a good thing, at least for now, since he was still uncomfortably full from his Italian feast. But eventually, he would be hungry. And he would then be in a bind. But for now, he just thought about who had died. This was Ness and Sonic. Sonic had been given a very expensive sponsor gift-three bags of intravenous fluid-on the very first night, which had effectively saved his life. And yet, it was now all for naught, as Monsieur Beauregard had paid six million euros for the sponsor gift.

Lucario wasn't aware of all of this. It took him about an hour to finally relax his aura in order to stop his aura-sensing organs from standing straight up. He decided to just go to sleep, and hope that he was alerted and woke up if a Career, or any other Smasher, approached. Using this, he slid into slumber.

Kirby was looking at the clock above the Cornucopia. According to this clock, it was _22:14:46, Day 3_ , which meant that he was nearly sixty hours into these Games. He'd made it into the top eleven. This was a good thing, because the danger exponentially decreased the fewer tributes were left. He could hide in his new shelter, which was kind of like a rabbit warren. He'd tried to get as low as possible, given that there was a lightning storm. It was still pouring _hard_ , so he'd stay in his hole as long as he had to in order to survive. He'd have to stay here...well, as long as he had to, in order to survive. He knew that this was circular reasoning, but it didn't really matter.

As the third night fell across the arena, a rooster began burrowing into the Cornucopia. Lucario was asleep when it came towards the aura-sensing Pokemon, and it nipped at his ear in order to get him to wake up. At this point, it was _01:26:17, Day 4,_ and no cannons had sounded in the four hours since the death recap had been shown.

As Lucario stirred from his slumber, he looked at a large rooster that was right next to his snout. He was a bit startled, but he got over it, seeing that it was not an enemy tribute.

"We're gonna have some fun", Lucario said.


	10. Chapter 10: Rooster Games

10\. Rooster Games

The fourth day dawned all across the lake. Lucario was still awake, and had been for the last four hours. By now, it was 5:21 AM, and yet he wasn't tired. His aura abilities allowed him to subsist on little sleep. Granted, this was an extremely high-stress situation, so it might not have been as risk-free as it normally was.

Lucario had quickly befriended that rooster that had so rudely woken him up at one in the morning. This wasn't hard. He was just glad to have someone else. Fox and Falco didn't count. Although they had been friendly to him, all three had known that there was that little bit of underlying "we'll have to kill each other eventually". However, with the rooster, the survival of these two beings was not mutually exclusive.

"So," Lucario said, using his aura to communicate with the rooster, "I want you to go attack the Careers and make them paranoid and believe that you're going to attempt to peck them alive. I want them to run off in three separate directions. That means that the plurality alliance would then be gone."

The rooster appeared to be okay with this. And, within a few more minutes, the rooster had set out to the Career's camp on the lake shore.

The rooster, now in the middle of the Career pack, began to caw. Toon Link immediately woke up, wondering if it was another Cuckoo that would need to be captured. He then saw feathers all around him, so…

A rooster was flying all around them, trying to peck all over Jigglypuff and Mr. Game & Watch. Both looked at Toon Link with the scariest looks ever, then ran off in different directions. Toon Link then found the rooster pecking on his face. He knew he had to flee, so he decided to. He ran in a direction that formed an equilateral triangle.

It all happened so fast, and Lucario was laughing the whole time. It appeared that the plurality alliance was no more.

Fox McCloud woke up free falling.

He wasn't in free fall for long, of course, since he was wearing a climbing harness. He came to a halt twelve feet below the beds, about ten feet beyond where the wire mesh, which was no longer needed due to the storm having stopped, ended.

It had been the crow of a rooster, miles away, that had woken him up. Hanging in midair, Fox looked towards the center of the lake. It was _05:50:33, Day 4_ , so it was still early in the morning.

"Fox...you're OK!" Falco cried, looking over the edge of the bed.

"If I remember correctly", he continued, "two of the three mornings we've had in the arena, this is how you woke up. By falling out of bed. No wonder Krystal left you."

This was pretty tactless of Falco, of course. They were both still recovering from the knowledge that Fox _had_ been abusing Krystal. Granted, he hadn't been in control; it had been a part of Andross's curse. Still, though, no matter what he did, he would never be able to convince his soon-to-be-ex-wife that he was unconscious while committing domestic violence. He had to let it go, and hope that he might just survive to fight for partial custody of his son.

He forgived Falco almost immediately, saying, "It's fine, dude. Will you please just help me up?"

Falco pulled Fox back up until he landed back on the mattresses.

"No cannons last night. Still eleven. Still three more before we disband".

Fox nodded.

"Let's stay in bed for another hour or so," Fox said, "we have nothing better to do. Let's just hope someone comes towards us. Then, we can shoot them down with our blasters".

Pit had heard the crowing of the rooster, but he assumed nothing of it. Probably a muttation of the Capitol, but not one that could possibly be close to him. The Careers were still his biggest threat.

Stopping for a drink of water, Pit gazed down at the Cornucopia. It was now _6:02:39, Day 4_ _ **.**_ These Games sure were going quickly. He was just grateful that he could fly now that he wasn't over the lake, although he had to be as quiet as possible about it. He wasn't like Maximum Ride, though; he couldn't do it for very long, and he couldn't gain any altitude after three jumps or so. And he would just have to deal with it. He had no choice. Master Hand had just plucked him from Palutena's palace and put him in the Games. Totally unfair.

But he had to move. He spread out his wings, long white feathers that reached far out from his body. Despite being only 5'9", Pit had a wingspan of nearly nine feet. Of course, this was a far cry from Maximum Ride's thirteen feet.

Why was he thinking so much of Maximum Ride right now?

As he soared into the sky, he began humming Coldplay's "Hymn For the Weekend" to himself.

It wasn't a happy realization, as Toon Link ran through the pine forests, that the plurality alliance was over. There were only eleven tributes left, so this was just how it was going to be.

Still, though, the rooster had appeared malevolent, conscious of what it was intending to do. And, the more Toon Link thought about it, the more certain he was that it was a mutt. How else would it have been so clucking _efficient_ at driving them apart from each other?

He couldn't worry about that right now. The next time he saw one of his former allies, they would not leave without one of them being dead.

He'd been running for over an hour when he sat down, realizing that he'd gone nearly halfway around the arena. Since the radius was roughly five miles, it was 31.4 miles or so around the far outer part. He checked the clock. 6:34 AM. _The end of the Games can't come soon enough_ , he thought, _whether I'm dead or alive._

The fourth day was in full force. Unlike the previous three days, it was quite warm. Snake could tell that it was 87 degrees Fahrenheit. It had probably been a good thirty degrees cooler during the day, and near freezing at night, but given the heat today, it was likely that it would be far colder at night than it had been. Snake didn't see why this was necessary-they'd had no fewer than two deaths a day since the Games had begun, with nine dead in the Bloodbath on the first day.

But now things had shifted. Now, Snake could tell that there was a loud noise somewhere near the lake shore. It sounded...almost like the clucking of a rooster. What was going on? A muttation? Some other Gamemaker trap? Snake didn't know, and he didn't want to be around to find out. He began walking further, towards the tall limestone cliffs. He thought he detected a life force somewhere high up, but he didn't worry too much at this. Why would a tribute be so high up there? It just made no sense.

Of course, if you have read up to this point, you'll no doubt be aware that there _were_ , in fact, two Smashers high up on the cliffs.

It was now two hours since Fox and Falco had woken up, 7:18 AM. They still hadn't gone around to getting up yet. Falco was wishing they had, when he heard a rustling far below him. Someone was climbing on the ropes.

"Fuck!", Falco shouted. "Fox, he's _right_ below you!"

Sure enough, Solid Snake was clinging to the climbing ropes about thirty feet off the ground. He had his grenade launcher slung over his back, and he wasn't wearing a harness. A fall from this height could kill him. Which was what they wanted.

Of course, the Star Fox teammates had not killed anyone yet. And they didn't want this to be the first time. But they understood that they had no choice. After all, Snake was looking up at them with murderous eyes. They knew that he was out for blood. And he was going to climb that rope and blast both of them to bits, unless they did something, _anything_ , to stop him.

"Fox, give me that pocketknife! It's in my backpack!"

Fox searched through the backpack for a small knife, which he eventually found. By now, Snake was just twenty feet from the top. Falco began sawing through the rope.

Fox thought of something, though. If they cut through the rope, they would no longer be protected. If they fell, they could, and probably would, die. "Wait till he's a bit farther up, Falco!", he ordered.

Falco stopped. Then, once Snake was within reach of Falco's beak, the surly pilot deposited the knife in Snake's cranium.

Snake let go and fell seventy feet to his death. The cannon sounded a minute later.

" _That_ was a close call", Falco said.

It had been a loud morning for Kirby. First, there was the loud rooster-sounding noise, which Kirby ascertained had been nowhere near him, and then there was the cannon fired in response to Snake's death. Of course, Kirby wasn't sure who had died. But he would know in time thanks to the nightly death recap. The Capitol was probably not bored. They'd had plenty of deaths in the last three days.

It got harder and harder to get out of bed every morning. Kirby's ultra-fast metabolism burned as much as 7,000 calories a day. Since he couldn't have been eating more than a tenth to a fifth of that, he was losing his hard-earned muscle mass, fast. He had put on as much weight as possible before leaving the mansion, but that hadn't helped. It was almost gone by the fourth morning due to the extra stress, maybe 9,000 calories a day total. He'd lost perhaps six or seven pounds since the beginning of the Games, and he'd be a lot less puffy by the time this was over. If he even survived.

But right now, Kirby knew that he had to stay away from whoever had performed the kill. Probably one of the Careers. He had to stay away from the plurality alliance at all costs.

The whole morning had been a barrel of laughs for Lucario. At 7 AM, the rooster had come back and told him, through aura, that the Career alliance had been disbanded. This was going to be good for him. Now, it would just be Fox and Falco left in an alliance. And maybe not even that, if they had turned on each other. But why would they? They had vowed to stay together until the final 8. Why would they disband now?

Now, though, it was _08:24:13, Day 4,_ and Lucario was swimming away from the Cornucopia. When he reached the shore, he would use aura to dry off his fur so that he wouldn't leave tracks through the dirt. If he left tracks, someone, maybe not one of the Careers, might still be able to track him, in which case he'd be in trouble.

On second thought, however, _bring it on!_ Lucario was very fulfilled from the feast the day before, and he was more sated than he had probably been in his life. Italian food _was_ pretty filling. There were some good pizza places in Celadon City, but it wasn't native to Kanto. This pizza had been better than any he'd ever had. It was just too bad it had been followed by a bout of gastrointestinal distress.

So he reached the shore and dried off. He then began hiking up the fifteen-degree angle and wondered what his strategy was going to be now. He would try to attract more sponsors.

Without thinking, he whipped his aura sensing organs over the side of his head and stared at the camera. He said, "If any sponsors are watching this, know that I'm still a good bet to win. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger. I'll stand a little taller. It doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone".

Hopefully, the audience would appreciate the Kelly Clarkson reference.

Meta Knight was still alive. He'd finished off his baguette, and he was wondering how he would find more food. Without food, he had virtually no chance at winning. It would probably still be a couple days until the Games were over. He'd need sustenance, and you couldn't get sustenance without looking.

So he decided to start looking for berries or something. He wondered why he was so dizzy. It probably had something to do with not having eaten that much. Again, he needed food. Without it, he would be a goner.

For the next three hours, he looked for something, _anything_ to eat. Eventually, though, he found a bush with dark blue berries. He tried to remember-weren't these berries poisonous in the books? Whatever. He was going to take that risk.

And this was a foolish risk to take, because as soon as the berries passed his throat, he felt an excruciating pain in his chest. He realized, too late, that it was nightlock. Katniss and Peeta had threatened to commit a double suicide by eating these berries so that there would be no victor if both of them ate it. That pretty much set off the whole events of _Catching Fire_.

Then, Meta Knight crumpled to the ground as the cannon fired.


	11. Chapter 11: The Final Eight

11\. The Final Eight

Note: The character of Jason Simmons belongs to another fanfiction writer, "Talkingbirdguy". Talkingbirdguy, if you're reading this, thank you. You're the reason I wanted to write fanfiction in the first place. I don't own your 're your own

The cannon sounded as Pit continued running through the forest. He wondered who it was for. It definitely wasn't for _him._ He didn't think that he would be able to run if he was dead. He just hoped that the killer wasn't anywhere nearby. He then turned a corner and found answers.

Meta Knight's body was being taken by the hovercraft. He saw blue paste all over his mask. Pit saw berries on the ground. Was this nightlock? This was not good. That was one fewer food source that there could be.

Soon, Pit sensed a voice behind him.

"So...here's the traitor", said a voice behind him.

Pit turned around.

Toon Link was standing twenty-five feet behind Pit. He had a wild look in his eyes, and Pit could tell that he was _pissed_ at him for abandoning his alliance.

"Now, you die", Toon Link said.

"No, I think _you_ die", Pit said.

They stood there, both sides seeking an out. Eventually, Toon Link pulled out his sword and slashed it through Pit's heart.

The cannon fired as Pit expired.

There were eight tributes left now, at twelve o'clock noon on the fourth day of the Hunger Games. This hadn't taken that long. It took eight days in the first book in the series for there to be eight left.

In the small town of Enfield, New Hampshire, there was one pub, called the Enfield Watering Hole. The owner, an elderly man named Scott Wilson, was cleaning tankards at the bar. This was when the news came on. Normally, they were watching the Red Sox or the Patriots, but this was not that. This was the Hunger Games, and there were only eight tributes remaining.

When there were eight tributes left, interviews were conducted with the families of the tributes. So that was what happened.

The first interview conducted was Krystal McCloud's. It was highly controversial, given that the divorce circus was all the rage in Corneria. Everyone with a TV (which _was_ everyone), was watching the interview.

"So, Krystal", the interviewer was saying, "do you think your husband has any chance at winning the game?"

"Well," Krystal said, "If my _ex_ -husband has any chance at winning the Games, I would think that he would have more sponsors. I filed for divorce the other day. I really hate everything about the man. The sex with him...well, let's just say that he's an abusive husband!".

The crowd gasped. Very few people had known about Fox being an abuser.

"Sorry", the interviewer said. "Would you like some tissues?"

Krystal nodded, tearing up, as the interviewer passed her a box of tissues. She began wiping her nose and face.

"I...hate...that...man", Krystal sobbed.

"Let's leave it at that", the interviewer said.

That concluded the first interview.

The next interview was with Jason Simmons, an eighteen-year-old boy from the land of Kanto. He was representing Lucario. His own story was famous on his own.

Two years before, he had turned into a Lucario in the middle of science class. Ever since then, he'd been famous worldwide. But that's another story.

"I know this Lucario," he said.

"Oh, yeah?", the interviewer said.

"Yes. You know that movie being made? _Curse of the Lucario?_ That's Narri. The Lucario in the Games is _Narri._ "

"And who is this Narri?", the interviewer asked.

Jason began to recount the story of how, two years ago, he had accidentally run over a wild Lucario on the road. He'd called for an ambulance and thought little of it. The next day, however, he had been shoved by a bully named Thomas. He'd stood up and painfully transformed into the aura-channelling Pokemon. This had set off a dangerous quest in order to stay away from Team Styx, an insurgent group that had been threatening to capture Simmons and use his aura to manufacture weapons of mass destruction. Narri had had Jason's back throughout this ordeal. Little did anyone know that, twenty-five years later, Jason would be captured by another insurgent group called Team Phoenix. Again, that's another story.

"Well," the interviewer said, "I'm sorry that you're likely to lose your best friend. So let's hope, for your sake, that he wins".

That concluded the second interview.

There were no interviews for Toon Link, Falco, or Mr. Game & Watch. It just went straight to Jigglypuff.

Jigglypuff's loved one was its trainer, a young man named Ted Turkey. This was an embarrassing name to have, and, needless to say, Ted's face flashed scarlet when his name was said.

"I'm fairly optimistic about the chances of my Jigglypuff winning these Games. After all, it can always just use Rest to send them flying away! And it'll need _rest_ after these exhausting four days!"

The audience laughed, though it was unclear if they were laughing at the pun or still at Ted Turkey's ridiculous name.

This concluded the "sixth" interview.

There was no interview for one of the other tributes the author cannot remember either, nor for Kirby. So, the final eight interviews really meant just three. The audience in the Capitol was no doubt outraged, but there was nothing they could do about it. Nothing.

Fox awoke the next morning to a dire reality. They were at eight tributes left. The death recap the previous night had revealed that Snake, Pit, and Meta Knight had died. He remembered the pact he had made with his former copilot.

Falco Lombardi was still sleeping. He loved this guy, and he wanted to go as far as he could with him. But on the same hand, if Falco had to go in order for him to win the game, he had to _go._ Because he had more at stake than Falco did.

But they were at the final eight, and they had promised that they would peacefully separate at that point. It had come sooner than they had thought-maybe the arena was too small. But there was no turning back time, as he remembered Twenty One Pilots's song, "Stressed Out".

 _Wish we could turn back time,_

 _To the good old days,_

 _When our mommas sang us to sleep,_

 _But now we're stressed out._

That was the theme of Fox's life now. He wanted to go back, back to before his father had died, before he'd been cursed with unconscious domestic violence, before Krystal had cheated on him. Before he'd made a blood pact with Falco in this fucking game.

But there was no such thing as a time machine. Even in highly technologically advanced Corneria, once a day was over, that day was over. It was just so unfair.

Whoever was running the show, Yahweh or Allah or Vishnu or Zeus, Fox hoped that there was a good reason for this evil. The problem of evil had been proposed thousands of years ago by Epicurus, an ancient Greek philosopher. This was basically the idea that, if God was omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent, then there shouldn't be any evil or suffering in the world. But there was. Therefore, God didn't exist.

Fox began to break down into tears, not happy about any of this. He sobbed, unable to console himself.

This woke Falco up, who began patting Fox on the back. He knew that his friend needed emotional help, but he couldn't continue to offer it up.

It had come time. Time for their alliance to be over.

Lucario, or rather Narri, woke up on the morning of the first day. Ever since the rooster the day before, he'd been on a roller coaster that only went up. He figured that he had the best chance of winning these Games out of anyone. Since they were at eight Smashers left, Fox and Falco would now be breaking up. No more alliances. It was just everyone for themselves. And Narri knew that he could get sponsors, more of them.

He looked at his gash from the vicious leg wound. It was now only about half the size of a dime. He still remembered the foul-smelling pus on his leg, and how much it had hurt. The sponsors had saved him then, but it had undoubtedly cost many millions of dollars. And gifts went up in price the longer the Games lasted. He knew that from the books, which were very popular in Kanto. He'd gotten the medicine on day two. It was now day five. Prices went up by a factor of 2.718 per day. It had cost fifty million dollars to get him the anti-infection drugs. Now, it would cost over a billion. Someone like Donald Trump could still afford it, though.

Narri was pondering this when a silver parachute began floating down. _Wow, they must really love me!,_ the Lucario thought. He waited for his new sponsor gift to land before reaching for it. Heart pounding, he opened the box.

It was now _08:04:02, Day 5,_ and Fox was still in bed. He was just prolonging the inevitable, and he knew that. He just wanted to spend a few more hours with his best friend. Another hour or two was all he'd need. But then Falco spoke exactly what was on his mind.

"It gets harder and harder to get out of bed every morning", he said.

Fox agreed. It felt as though he was weighed down by grief for his failed marriage, and, every day, he was saddled with another fifty-pound weight somewhere on his body.

This weight _doubled_ now that they had reached the end of the road for their alliance.

Still, though, for now Fox was okay with just eating breakfast. He was grateful for his last morning waking up, with the wind in his face and really high, _knowing_ he was safe from enemy Smashers. Well, except for Snake.

Narri got up and began walking in search of food. He'd lost all benefit from the Italian feast two days before thanks to the gastrointestinal warfare, Fan favorite or not, he had to get moving or else he could easily be killed. He recalled a passage from the book: _Pity does not get you aid. Admiration at your refusal to give in does._

That was very relevant now. He had to act like he was in control of everything, like this was his plan from day one. The Capitol audience loved a good underdog story, and that was what he hoped to give them.

The sponsor package had contained a rich, juicy steak. However, whoever had given it to him had clearly not considered that his stomach would still be recovering from the feast. He used his aura abilities to refrigerate it so that would be okay to cook within four days or so. Of course, he only had a few days, but that might be just as well, because these Games were unlikely to last much longer than that, given how quickly they had gone by so far.

Narri recalled Jason Simmons, the teenage boy from Kanto who had run him over. He sat down next to a pine tree and reminisced about the story.

When Jason was sixteen, Narri had been running across the street when he was suddenly swept off his feet into the nearby woods. Jason had run him over on accident. Narri had been taken to the hospital, where Jason visited him later that day.

Two evenings later, he had felt an urge to go to another location. He escaped from the hospital when the nurse wasn't looking and began walking towards what would turn out to be the Simmons household. He collapsed and lost consciousness in the field. He woke up as Jason was carrying him inside.

He stayed with the Simmons family for the next day. Around midday, a Dragonite came bearing a message for Jason. They had gone to Sir Ignacious's mansion, where the old professor had explained his theory about how Jason had turned into a Pokemon. Narri had also shown him his family at the Lucario sanctuary, as well as the hot springs there.

After returning, Jason had been captured by the WPO, and then escaped. He had been led down to a city, where he escaped from a burning hotel room. Two days later, he went to a meeting where government officials had agreed to stop Team Styx. But before Narri could do anything, Jason was teleported to a mountain where the leader of Team Styx, Devon Mutatin, had been waiting for him. He'd sent off a signal and been rescued, and taken to a hospital. He then became a human again. Narri had still had a lot of media attention, and they were even making a movie based on their escapades. But he'd otherwise had a normal life. Until now.

Jigglypuff was still going strong. Unlike some of its peers, the Balloon Pokemon had been eating well ever since the Games began, thanks to being in the plurality alliance. But for the last day, Jigglypuff had been on its own. "It" was actually a she, like seventy-five percent of Jigglypuffs in the world of Pokemon.

She was waiting for someone to come along so she could use Rest on them and send them flying into the force field. Unless someone performed CPR on the victim, they would be dead. This could be a legitimate strategy for winning the Games!


	12. Chapter 12: Broken Alliance

12\. Broken Alliance

"So this is where it ends", Falco said.

He and Fox were sitting on the edges of their beds. Their harnesses were still on, clipped into the rope, so they wouldn't die if they fell. But soon, they wouldn't have this security. No longer would there be safety in numbers.

"Yes," Fox said. "It's really sad, because I wanted to go to the end with you. But now, when- _if_ we see each other again, we'll be enemies. Nothing to stop us from offing each other. It's just the endless cycle of life and death".

Falco nodded, but this wasn't the time for a philosophical discussion. Or maybe it was.

"I always hoped", Falco finally said, "that there would be something after death. Maybe not Valhalla, but _something_ , you know? Maybe we'll see each other there. Maybe you'll see your dad again".

" _Don't...mention...him...around...me…",_ Fox said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, yes, of course. So sorry".

A few miles away, Toon Link was still searching for food. He'd killed Pit, but he'd had very little in the way of edibles. Now, he'd have to hope that some sponsor would admire him enough to send him something to curb the hunger pangs. He'd been living in a Hunger Games mansion yesterday. Now, he was in a Hunger Games ghetto.

Granted, he still had _some_ food to tide him over. But it definitely wasn't like before, where he'd been with the Careers. Now, he actually had to _hunt_ for it. And, unless he could get his act together quickly, he wouldn't live to see the sixth day.

At some point, Narri must have fallen asleep, like he had quite a few times when relaxing at the hot springs near his home. He woke up, at which time the Cornucopia clock read _11:08:41, Day 5._ He'd slept for nearly three hours. He was glad no one had come to kill him, but he knew that he couldn't just zonk out like this if he hoped to win these Games. There was a large reward for winning: an annual allowance of $2 million a year, the ability to mentor other tributes, and most of all, his life, the ability to go back home to Jason. And he didn't think anyone would want him to be a hooker; he wasn't that good-looking to humans. He could essentially live his life as a Hunger Games victor.

Of course, he was a long way from winning just yet. There were still seven other Smashers lying in wait somewhere around the arena. And if Narri found one, he had to be on high alert in order to defeat them. He also hoped to find a way to cook his steak so that his sponsor gift, no doubt very expensive, would actually come to something.

It was 11:10 AM, and Sam Whitley was drowning his sorrows in the bar. His divorce from his wife had been finalized the previous day, and he was trying to get used to the fact that he now had to be alone. He had tried to get alimony, but it ultimately didn't work. Of course it hadn't, because he had made more than her. But it still wasn't enough for his wife to stay with him instead of running away to a far wealthier man.

This bar in Ithaca, New York was called the Tavernacle. Above the countertops was a TV with the Hunger Games playing on it.

Sam absolutely hated furries. He couldn't stand the fact that Narri was in the final eight of the Games. The man his ex-wife had left him for had bought the sponsor gift for Narri, a steak, for about ten million dollars.

Sam just drank away until he began throwing up. Then he blacked out.

Fox was still not very on board with the idea of splitting up, but he knew it was necessary. The longer he prolonged it, the harder it would be for him to leave. He had to do it now.

As the two former teammates rappelled down the limestone cliffs, Falco was absolutely distraught, knowing what was coming: the final goodbye. As soon as Fox left, he would never see him again. These Games were cruel. Why did they even exist? Because the Capitol wanted to.

Well, fuck the Capitol.

In any case, though, Fox looked at Falco Lombardi with tears in his eyes, with the irrevocable finality of someone talking to a dying loved one.

"Good-bye, Falco. See you on the other side".

"You too, Fox...you too", Falco said.

They then both walked in opposite directions. The next time they saw each other, _if they even crossed paths again_ , they would be enemies.

Jigglypuff was still lying in wait in order to ambush anyone who came even close to her. However, this would not be easy. Rest only worked in extremely close quarters, so it wasn't like she'd have all the time in the world in order to start the attack. But she'd have to try if anyone came. She couldn't give up.

It was difficult leaving the Career alliance. But that was what had had to happen, thanks to that stupid rooster. She hadn't had any destination in mind, only _away_ from that stupid rooster. So it wasn't really her fault. She had no one to blame but the Gamemakers.

In any case, it appeared someone was approaching now. Jigglypuff hadn't taken any weapons before she left-she hadn't had time to. Now, she wished she had.

It was Mr. Game & Watch, having come back. It didn't look as though he was intent on rekindling their old alliance. He looked out for blood, but it was hard to tell because of his perpetually blank expression.

Mr. Game & Watch looked as though he was about to use Judge on Jigglypuff. This was not good news, and the Balloon Pokemon knew this. So, she used Rest.

Mr. Game & Watch went flying, hit a pine tree, and slumped to the ground. Jigglypuff used this opportunity to float/run over immediately and used Rest again.

This time, the monochrome character went flying and hit the force field on the other end of the arena, with a sound similar to the crack of a Home-Run Bat. After a minute or two, another loud sound came along. It was the unmistakable sound of a cannon firing. That was Mr. Game & Watch dead. Seven remained.

Fox was in total disgrace. Without Falco, he had less chance to survive in order to see Marcus again. He could care less about Krystal, but his young son...and he was unlikely to see him again.

It wasn't a pleasant thing to dwell on, but Fox had never actually been conscious of abusing Krystal. He hadn't done it of his own free will. Granted, it would have been hard for him to resist after Krystal had cheated on him with _Leon Powalski_. Leon was a cold-hearted killer, and Krystal was a foolish woman if she thought she'd be any safer with him. Then again, he hadn't known he was committing domestic violence. Had he known, he might have found this more understandable.

But as he was running quickly away from his former ally, he heard a sound that resonated like a cannon blast; because it _was_ a cannon blast. He didn't know if the cannon was for Falco or someone else. Not that it really mattered anymore, given that they were no longer allies. But still, he wanted to know if Falco was dead. This would give him a bit of...guidance, on what he should do next.

In any case, he now had a one-in-seven chance at winning the Games. So did Falco, if he was still alive. So there was a two-in-seven chance that one of the former Star Fox team members were going to return home to Corneria in order to set the truth straight to Krystal. But, again, it wasn't like she'd believe them.

Narri was now attempting to build a fire. He'd been working for an hour, with no luck. It was now _12:36:48, Day 5,_ and only occasional sparks were present. He needed a fire, but he didn't want anyone to see. Granted, there were only seven foes left, so it was unlikely that anyone would notice if the smoke signal didn't reach too high. But still, he wanted to have some kind of barrier above the fire.

So that's what Narri did. He created a little bit of a teepee of sticks around the area where he would attempt the fire. And he kept rubbing sticks together. It took another hour before he even got an _inch_ of fire. Eventually, though, he had burned through the teepee. He panicked at first, worrying that maybe someone had seen the signal, in which case he would have to prepare for a battle. But after twenty further minutes of nursing the flame, no one came.

So Narri began cooking his steak. After another hour, by which time it was 3:00 PM, he judged it ready and began to dig in. It was as good as he expected.

"Thanks", he told his sponsor.

Falco was still wondering why they had had to split up so soon. Ever since the cannon had sounded, signifying another death, he had been wondering if it was Fox. Somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling that his former teammate had died soon after they had went their separate ways.

But he _couldn't worry about that_. If Falco kept worrying about things he couldn't control, he'd already lost. This was just a grim reality of the Games. He could not let his guard down. He always had to be at the very top of his game, especially now at the final seven, where everyone was. Falco knew that Fox had been alive this morning. There was also Toon Link, Jigglypuff, Mr. Game  & Watch, the Lucario, Kirby, and one other person. Who was it again?

Anyway, he was one of the last seven tributes remaining in the arena, after only a little over four days. These Games were going quite fast compared to what usually happened. This wasn't like the 49th Hunger Games, which had been so long that the Head Gamemaker had been tortured and executed by president Coriolanus Snow. But Snow was dead now. And the Hunger Games should have ended. But they were still going on under Paylor. It seemed that she had been filled with vengeance for the Capitol's mistreatment of the Districts.

Falco would have to try to stay alive until the very end of the Games. He had no other option. And if he was left with just him and Fox, he would let his friend win. That would not be good, but thankfully, it was unlikely it would happen. Even now, Fox might have died in eighth place.

Marth had remained under the radar since the very beginning of the Games. He had been lucky to remain away from the plurality alliance, which had of course disbanded the previous morning, two of whom were dead. But he didn't have that much food. And he'd need food soon, or else he would deteriorate into helplessness and be dead within a few weeks. Of course, it was only the fifth day, and these Games had been going by quickly. But he still wanted to find food. It would help him fend off any predators he might come across.

Again, though, the odds of that were decreasing by the day. Ever since entering the arena, there had not been a single night with less than two names in the sky. These Games would, at this rate, be over in three more days. Of course, though, there was no telling what the Gamemakers would place in their paths now. Marth had to stay alert.

But for now, though, he set up camp high in a tree. He didn't have any harnesses or belts to buckle himself in, so he simply swung his arms around the branches like a sloth. This was not ideal, and he would never have recommended it had he taught a survival course, but it was his only choice. And having one choice left is not called _choosing._ Having one choice left is called _take it or leave it_.

It was now _16:57:37, Day 5,_ and Fox was having to face a grim reality now. He would need to weather his first night in the arena alone, starting in just a few hours. When the death recap came, he would know whether or not it had been Falco who had died this morning. That is, unless someone else died in the intervening time, in which case there would be no way to tell.

He tried looking for food. The Italian feast had barely helped at all; he'd had diarrhea that almost reminded him of Andross's curse so long ago. He'd lost all benefit from it. He needed to find something to sustain him for the remainder of the Hunger Games. In order to find food, he needed sponsors. In order to get sponsors, he needed to show he had a shot. In order to have a shot, he needed food.

This was a catch-22 at its best. There was no way to escape, except to outlast his competitors.

At that exact moment, Krystal was with Leon in her Cornerian apartment. This was in the city area, so it was very noisy even at night. They had just had sex, and Krystal had been very satisfied with it. If Fox came back, he would be in for some major revenge for how he had treated Krystal.

Leon knew this. He hoped that Fox didn't win, because it would make things so much easier for both of them. The divorce wouldn't take so long being finalized; in fact, there wouldn't _need_ to be a divorce in the first place. They could just begin their new life together. And Fox would not interfere with it, ever.

So why was he still worried?

That night, Toon Link was settling in as the seal of the Capitol showed up in the navy blue sky. Only one tribute had died: Mr. Game & Watch. Thus far, the death counts had been 9-2-2-3-1. As long as one tribute died every day, not counting Toon Link of course, he could win within the week. That would be good.

This made it him, Fox, Falco, Jigglypuff, Marth, Narri, and Kirby left in the Games. Seven. The irreducible complexity of these Games was now cut down to size a bit more. Seven was an easier number to crunch than fifteen. Less people to keep track of. And the fewer people there were to keep track of, the easier it would be to win these Games.

If only he wasn't so thirsty…


	13. Chapter 13: A Frosty Surprise

13\. A Frosty Surprise

Fox was relieved to learn that Falco had survived his first day alone in the arena. But that also meant that, at the end, he might end up with the highly unpleasant task of killing his friend. If so, he didn't know if he'd be able to do that. Turning on your friend was not an easy thing to do.

Hopefully, if it came down to that, he could convince Falco to do that. But that would make him a coward, and he didn't want to be a coward. Falco did have more to live for back in the Lylat System, though. He wasn't going to be stripped from his only child. He wasn't the pariah of Corneria City.

Again, though, he honestly hoped that _neither_ of them would survive. But he just couldn't bring himself to give up.

Falco was likewise relieved that Fox had survived the night. But, like Fox, he was worried about having to actually fight to the death.

Jigglypuff was not surprised Mr. Game & Watch had died. Of course, though; she'd been the one to kill him.

Marth was not too surprised that the small monochrome character was dead. After all, he had had virtually no defenses. He was such a shitty fighter that his death made little difference to the rest of them.

Kirby was a bit relieved that there had been a death, because he was so fucking hungry. He would need to find food, and soon. He just had to be the last one left in these Games.

As the night settled around the arena, the seven remaining tributes closed their eyes. They woke up the next morning to an unpleasant surprise.

The next morning, Narri woke up, still unsurprised by the death of Mr. Game & Watch. This was not what would have woken him up. Despite his thick blue fur, he was shivering, and he had no idea why.

Then he opened his eyes and realized what was going on overnight.

It looked like the entire arena had been shut inside a massive freezer. There was a thick layer of frost covering all the trees. The limestone cliffs looked like sides of an enormous ice cream cake. A three-inch layer of snow covered the entire arena. The lake had frozen over.

 _Well, this is going to be fun,_ Narri thought.

Of course the Gamemakers had done this. It was absolutely freezing out. It must have been twenty degrees above zero at the very warmest. In southern Kanto, where the sanctuary in which he lived was located, the weather rarely dropped below fifty degrees Fahrenheit. On one occasion, during a massive snowstorm two years previously, he had run outside and played, turning his fur so white that he looked like an alternate costume in _Super Smash Bros. Brawl_. He then hopped into the hot springs in order to warm up. The snow just melted. But it sure looked pretty.

However, this time he was not glad to see the arena covered in snow. Not only was it frigid, but he would be leaving tracks for any pursuers. Every step he made, he would have to cover those tracks. He didn't want any pursuers to be upon him.

On second thought, though, maybe that wasn't what he should do. He couldn't just "eat the clock" and try to evade pursuers. The Games would be over soon, but he didn't have much food. He'd never survive past another week or so. Plus, everyone else would also be leaving tracks, leaving all of them equally vulnerable.

So Narri set off. Walking kept him warm, but it also burned calories he couldn't _afford_ to lose. But he needed to stay warm now. He'd put that weight back on in the Capitol when he won.

Marth woke up to absolute frigidity. In his navy blue cape, he wasn't nearly warm enough. He hadn't been prepared for the cold front that had descended upon them overnight. Marth was about to pay dearly, he knew that much. But just how dearly remained to be seen.

He had no idea what to do. It was _6:33:22, Day 6,_ and the lake was frozen over completely. There had to be two feet of icy goodness covering the dark water. He didn't know if that would make it easier or harder to get to the Cornucopia. But he would have to try to do something in order to get food and warmth. So he went for it.

It was two miles down to the beach. He tried to step as lightly as possible on the snow, because he did not want to be tracked on his way there. But after thirty minutes of trudging through the snow, he finally reached the edge of the lake, as the ice refused to gleam at him. There was no sun here, just day and night.

Marth decided to slide on his ass down the lake. Yes, it was cold, but he was so determined to be _warm_ that it didn't matter. It took ten minutes or so to reach the central platform, which was now solidly stuck in the middle of the lake. The lake was 1,860 feet wide, and the central platform was only 1/31 of that. Inside the Cornucopia, there were five backpacks remaining. Given that there were so few tributes, Marth thought he could take as much time as he needed in order to get what he wanted and get the hell out of there.

The first backpack contained a flashlight, a small, scratchy blanket, and a box of crackers. Marth discarded this one for now. It didn't look like he would need any of this stuff. He had to look through the other four.

The second backpack contained a loaf of challah bread, two peaches, and a bag of batteries. This one would be useless without the first one.

The third backpack contained two full water bottles, three pears, and a bag of Cape Cod Potato Chips. This looked okay, but he still had to wonder what was in the last two.

The fourth backpack contained half a cold sandwich. That was it. And it was a _really_ cold sandwich, too. It was practically frozen due to the snowstorm. This bag was trash.

The fifth and final backpack contained four dried apples, some frozen grapes, and a machete.

Those were the contents of the bags. Marth figured that he could carry three bags. Which three would be the most beneficial for his survival?

In the end, Marth decided on bags one, two, and five. He would try to survive the trip back. He might run into an attacker on the way back to his hideout, which would not be good. But maybe, just maybe…

As Marth scooted across the ice, nursing his aching butt, he thought he heard someone slipping across the frozen lake. He looked around, and wondered who the fuck would be out here. This was going to be fun.

And Marth saw his assailant, who was very near to him. He gasped.

It was _Narri_. Marth had almost not noticed him, because he was nearly unrecognizable. Snow was caked all over his fur, making him look like a Yeti Lucario. Narri looked at Marth, and he knew that this was going to be a good battle.

Marth lunged at Narri, who parried him with an aura sphere. This knocked Marth ten feet back across the ice. It hurt, but not badly enough to make it impossible for him to defend against Narri's punches and Aura Spheres. He decided to whip out his machete (his sword had been confiscated before entering the arena), and try to cut Narri's head off.

This was unsuccessful, of course; Narri jumped as if he was training for the ballet. The cut that was supposed to separate his head from his body instead wiped the snow off his left leg. He staggered back, surprised.

Marth took this opportunity to make another swipe at his leg. This time, it made a deep gash across his blue leg fur, perhaps nine inches long. The fur around it turned a sickly purple. Narri again looked at his leg, shocked. Marth then hit him with the blunt side of his machete, sweeping him off his feet and launching him a good thirty yards away.

Marth looked over. Narri was unconscious. He could finish him now!

 _Get up,_ the aura spoke in Narri's mind, _he's almost upon you!_

Narri sat up and groaned, in pain from his wound. Every part of his body ached as if he'd been beaten to a pulp, then forced to lift weights for five minutes and run a 5K. Flying thirty yards onto hard, thick ice was not good for the back.

Marth was standing over Narri, about ready to make the final attack on his adversary. But Narri had just enough strength left to avoid him. He slid across the ice, and then remembered something important. Very important.

The more damage Narri took, the stronger he would become. The same was true of all Lucario. He had to be close to that 182% now, right? He'd been cut in the leg, flown thirty feet through the air, landed hard on ice, and been knocked unconscious for thirty seconds. He used his aura vision to see what "percentage" he was at.

 _143%._

Okay, so he wouldn't be _quite_ as powerful as he thought. He still had enough strength to grab Marth's machete. Using the last of his strength, he stabbed Marth through the heart. The swordsman slumped onto his own sword, not unlike Aerith in _Final Fantasy VII_. Then the cannon sounded. He was dead.

But Narri was also not in good shape. He crawled into the Cornucopia. As soon as he was ten feet away, he slid towards it. But in his weakened state, he couldn't do _that._ Instead, his chest spike broke through the ice as he slipped forward. He knew that if he passed out like this, he might suffocate or become hypothermic as his spike became soaked with the water, which, defying the normal laws of matter, was thirty degrees below zero Celsius, or -22 degrees Fahrenheit.

Unfortunately, he didn't have the strength. He had to hope that he didn't get too much into his spike. And the water was so cold that if it went through his chest spike, it could stop his heart. But he couldn't worry about as he fell asleep.

He was unaware of this, but the luckiest thing that could possibly have happened, happened. He rolled over.

Falco had been freezing his ass off all night. Now that he no longer had a bed in the sky, he began to appreciate it that much more. He felt as though he were an extra in _Frozen_ or _Snowpiercer_. Except he wasn't an extra. He was one of the lead actors.

At 7:22 AM, he heard another cannon. This meant that there were just six Smashers remaining. Again, maybe it was Fox, maybe it wasn't, but either way, he couldn't worry about it right now. He'd hold a funeral for his friend when, or rather _if_ he came back to Corneria.

He didn't know what he was going to do. Walking would leave tracks, and staying could cause hypothermia. No matter what, he was putting himself in greater danger. It was a case of zugzwang, a German word meaning "compulsion to move". It's a situation in chess where you would rather not move because any move you make hurts your position, but of course you must.

Falco decided that walking would be the lesser of two evils.

Fox woke up to another cannon. He'd slept later than he had expected, given the fact that the entire arena had frozen over. He knew that there were now just six tributes remaining in the land of the living. The question was, _had Falco died?_ He didn't think so-looking down upon the now-frozen lake, he saw the body of Narri. Maybe it had been the Lucario who had died. But if this was the case, why hadn't the hovercraft shown up to take his body? It had to have been someone else.

He decided to go for a walk. He was careful not to leave too many footprints. He'd often walk thirty feet in one direction, literally retrace his footsteps, and then head off thirty feet in another direction before returning and choosing his path.

Consequently, it took Fox McCloud nearly two hours to make it down to the lake shore, a distance that would ordinarily take under an hour for someone with his awesome artificial legs. He then slid across the ice. His metallic legs did not feel the cold of the ice, just pleasant coolness. Even so, he didn't want to stay here too long. Someone was bound to spot him.

Fox looked over at Narri.

Three days before, Fox and Falco had shared a lavish Italian wedding feast with the Aura Pokemon. Narri looked as if he had lost all benefit from that. He was thinner than ever, and his blue thighs had lost some of their mass. There was a long, deep cut on his left thigh. It cut through his fur, and there was a two-inch radius of purple blood, way worse than his first injury. The Lucario was asleep on the ice, shivering. Hypothermia would undoubtedly be setting in, but...Narri had aura abilities, right?

 _That's right,_ the semiconscious Pokemon thought. _And I can use it to raise my core body temperature, right? Yes, yes…_

Instantly, Narri warmed his core body temperature by about ten degrees. Instead of being severely hypothermic, he had a high fever of about 103. This sent off a wave of heat so powerful that Fox slipped backwards, only to come face-to-face with another tribute.

It was Falco.

Falco looked as if Fox's likely impending death was an unpleasant necessity, which it no doubt was for him. But Fox wasn't going to give up on fighting, even against his former ally, Falco Lombardi. Even so, he didn't want all of the emotional baggage associated with this. He didn't worry much about this, though. Even if he killed Falco, and then Narri, he'd still need to fight his way through Toon Link, Kirby, Jigglypuff, and Marth. One of those four was dead, he knew. Narri was easy pickings, but was Falco?

One thing was for sure: Falco was dead fucking serious. He did not look as though he wanted to rekindle their old alliance. That was dead. And Fox didn't really want to, either. They had separated at the final eight. It was now the final six. And Fox was just as determined to win as his former friend.

Falco lunged at him first, shooting Fox with a laser. It made him collapse backwards. Falco fired another shot.

This knocked Fox down, but he got up, whipping Falco in the back of the head with his pistol. It only stunned him for a few seconds, and then he kept going after McCloud.

Fox got hit with the blunt end of the pistol, causing him to stagger backwards again. He tried to grab Narri on his way down, to try to drown the semiconscious Pokemon, but Falco tore Narri off of him. He threw the feverish Lucario twenty yards away. "He's for later!", yelled Falco. "Now, I deal with you!"

Falco lunged again at Fox, without the intended effect. He had intended for Fox to be pushed under the ice. Instead, _both_ of them fell in, and they almost immediately went hypothermic. It was hopeless. They were under two feet of ice.

Then, the feeling of drowning set in. That was when it got really terrifying.

Fox thought he saw his dead father far away, but it might have just been his imagination.

He was looking at Lombardi, wondering how he could have attacked his former teammate like that. That was just so _wrong_ of him!

No, it wasn't _Fox_ who was evil. It was the fucking Capitol. They had forced all of them into these Games, knowing that twenty-three of them would die. And Fox, quickly fading into darkness, looked into the eyes of Falco, wondering what had possessed Lombardi to attack him like that. What kind of evil was this?

As both of them began to lose consciousness, Falco gave a sad smile, as if saying, _Sorry for trying to kill you. See you on the other side._

And with that, both anthropomorphic animals faded into the next life. Their dead bodies began floating back up as two cannons rang out.

This shocked Narri out of his fever dream. It was now _10:18:42, Day 6,_ and still freezing as fuck. But he got the feeling that he was going to survive this. He knew that two further cannons had rung out.

Narri surveyed the area around and saw two bloated bodies, those of Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi. Weakly moving away to allow the hovercraft to come in to collect them, he pondered who was left. It was just him, Toon Link, Jigglypuff, and Kirby. He was feverish and still drowsy, but he knew that he had one leg up on his competition: _information_. He knew who was left and who wasn't. And he could use this to his advantage if he wanted to, but this advantage would be gone come tonight's death recap.

What must have happened, Narri realized, was that after he had killed Marth, Fox and Falco had drowned each other on accident while attempting to kill each other. This was not a happy realization, and it only underscored the cruelty of the Capitol. The former Star Fox teammates had been in an alliance forever-Falco would probably have helped Fox through his divorce from Krystal. Now Krystal would get full custody of Marcus. Maybe _she_ had been involved with putting him in the Hunger Games so that she could steal all their assets, in which case...major-league devious.

Narri only wondered why they hadn't tried to kill him first. They probably thought that an unconscious, hypothermic Aura Pokemon would not be a threat, and could always be beaten later. Narri knew that it might be a couple days before he could go out hunting again.

He used his aura to get all of the snow out of his snowy fur. In

his weakened state, this really took a lot out of him. Narri began to feel nauseous and his head was spinning, as if he had just gotten off of a carnival ride. Before long, he had crumpled to the ground.

Narri blacked out.

Kirby had heard two more cannons. He had been initially shocked by the cold, but this shock was increased tenfold by the fact that there had been three cannons in the last five hours. By now, it was almost noon, and he hadn't gone anywhere. Again, Kirby burnt so many calories that moving around would take away from the energy he needed in order to keep warm. Luckily, he was in the final four now. Just three more cannons and he could return to Dream Land, where he would have earned so many riches that he could swim in his bank vault. The more he thought about it, the more he liked his odds.

But he wasn't out of the woods yet. He definitely wasn't in the clear yet. If he wanted to win, the first rule was to _not get complacent_. You never knew when there might be a bogey on your tail.

And sure enough, before long, there _was_ a bogey on his tail. Kirby looked back and saw a pink puffball racing towards him, a murderous look in those teal eyes.


	14. Chapter 14: Battle Of The Pink Puffballs

14\. The Battle Of The Pink Puffballs

Jigglypuff did not appear happy. But why should it? It was no longer in the plurality alliance; in fact, two of the former members of the plurality alliance were now dead. Instead, the round teal eyes reflected _rage_. Jigglypuff wanted to win these Games, and she was going to use any means necessary in order to make this wish a reality.

"So," Kirby said, "we're two pink puffballs who are about to duel to the death. What fun".

Jigglypuff didn't say anything, just continued staring at Kirby with those murderous teal eyes. Kirby knew that he couldn't use any physical attacks on the Balloon Pokemon, because Jigglypuff would just use Rest and she'd be in the final three. Kirby was probably at least at the equivalent of 80%. Even in _Brawl,_ that would have been enough for Rest to KO from the center of Final Destination. Now, though, Jigglypuff was not advancing. She was biding her time. Waiting for Kirby to strike.

Kirby wasn't going to give her that opportunity. He was going to hit first, and hit _hard!_ But he couldn't charge because of the stupid Rest ability! So he had to use Inhale, and hope that it did something.

Kirby began inhaling the air. He ate up a pine tree, so he had to fight the pain in his belly and the urge to turn into, well, a pine tree. But Jigglypuff was fighting the whirlwind. Eventually, though, it would overwhelm her. And this only made Kirby feel better about his chances of winning these Games.

Jigglypuff, in a last-ditch effort to get out of Kirby's giant maw, used Rollout. This worked; she rolled twenty yards away, coming to rest at the bottom of a tree. She quickly recovered from this roll, and began charging at Kirby yet again.

Kirby had to do something, or else he would be Rested into the eternal rest. So he began floating upwards, waiting until Jigglypuff came underneath him. He then turned into a box of tissues and began free-falling just like Tom Petty.

He barely got any of Jigglypuff, but it was enough to send her flying a hundred meters back towards the limestone cliffs. This time, she didn't get up. But no cannon fired. Kirby wondered what that was all about.

"You think she's just faking?", Patrick Lawrence asked his wife.

They were sitting in the lobby of the Hotel Da Vinci, an upscale hotel in Venice. Patrick and his wife, Katie, were staying in Italy for a week while conducting interviews with students at the local university. Technically, this was only Patrick's job. Katie was just accompanying him because she didn't trust Patrick anymore after an affair he'd had with their maid five years ago.

"I don't know, Pat", Katie said. "I mean, there was no cannon, so I guess that she's probably still alive…"

"I fucking hope so", Patrick said, "I mean, I main Jigglypuff in all the _Super Smash Bros._ games. I want her to win! I don't want to find a new main!"

Katie sighed, looking past her husband. This really was a fancy hotel. Their room had a bathroom with golden-colored tiles. These tiles changed color from gold to green to blue to purple, then pink. They then got so red that it felt like you were suffocating; then, for relief's sake, it began fading out into orange and yellow, and the cycle repeated itself again. She really hoped it had been worth it to accompany her husband, who she didn't trust, all the way across the Atlantic. But then she remembered she was doing this precisely _because_ she didn't trust Patrick.

Back to the arena.

Jigglypuff eventually ceased playing dead and began charging at Kirby again. This time, Kirby began charging towards Jigglypuff.

It turned into a game of chicken, both pink puffballs running towards each other. Jigglypuff watched as their difference became fifty feet, thirty feet, twenty feet, ten feet, five feet.

 _PING._

Suddenly, there was the crack of a baseball bat, the sound of a pink puffball flying through the air, and the blast of a cannon. Someone was dead.

Jigglypuff looked up. She was still alive. She had Rested Kirby into oblivion. There wasn't that much blood right here, but it had been more than enough to kill him, especially after being knocked into that force field. And that force field was no joke. In the book, Finnick Odair had had to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) on Peeta after the latter had run into the force field on the Quarter Quell arena. Of course, Finnick had died during the rebellion. This meant that Kirby was dead as shit. Besides, the cannon had gone off.

Jigglypuff was left as one of the three remaining tributes. She now had a one-in-three chance at returning home. But first, she had to outlast Narri and Toon Link. And both were very tough competitors.

"So, Pat", Katie was saying, "I think you have your answer".


	15. Chapter 15: The Power Of Bombs

15\. The Power Of Bombs

TL=Toon Link

Toon Link was relieved to hear the fourth cannon of the day. It was _13:00:44, Day 6,_ and it was as frigid as ever. It seemed as though the Gamemakers had wanted the tributes to die faster than they already _had_ been. And if that was the case, mission accomplished. Not mission complete, _mission accomplished._

Toon Link had killed his fair share of tributes. He only had to kill one, maybe two more, and then he'd return home to Hyrule. It was that simple. And that complicated. These Games were complicated. There might still be an alliance now, at the final three, but it was highly doubtful. The sensibility of trusting someone not to kill you in your sleep was called more and more into question as the number of Smashers in the arena dwindled. But then again, Toon Link had never fully trusted the other members in his alliance. He had always known that only one of them could ultimately survive. All the others had to die in order for him to win. He'd need to defeat Narri and either Kirby or Jigglypuff. He was pretty sure Marth, Fox, and Falco were all dead. He'd seen their bodies from the distance.

Toon Link was currently camped out near the beach. He didn't have a jacket, so he couldn't count on staying warm through the night. One way or the others, these Games would have to end _today._

Jigglypuff had just killed Kirby. Since the pink puffball had not had any backpack, there had been no benefit to killing him, other than of course having one fewer tribute left in the running, and yet still being in the running herself.

She had little food left, and she doubted she would have enough strength to fight for too much longer. She wanted these Games over as soon as possible, just like Toon Link. And there was still one factor left: Narri. If Jigglypuff took down Toon Link, and then failed to defeat Narri, it would have made no difference from what would have happened if she'd died in the bloodbath.

They had still been in the Career alliance together, until the rooster had separated all of them. Jigglypuff wondered if the Gamemakers had been responsible for that. More than likely. If the Gamemakers hadn't had that as part of their plan, she was going to be thrown for a serious loop.

And, of course, she hadn't forgotten what usually happened for the final battle. The Gamemakers typically created an extra obstacle, whether it be more mutts, a giant tornado, or whatever else. But she couldn't worry about that yet. She had to find Toon Link or Narri.

 _So this was what it had come down to,_ Master Hand thought.

Jigglypuff was going to go after her former ally, Toon Link. Toon Link was also determined to hunt down and kill Jigglypuff. Narri was still lying, semiconscious, in the center of the frozen lake. It sure looked as though whoever killed the other between Jigglypuff and Toon Link would then go in the middle and kill Narri. But no doubt this would be way too easy. The Gamemakers had to do _something_ else.

Gary Melrose was a very wealthy man living in a mansion that was set on a hill overlooking the city of Los Angeles. The entire city looked as though it was shaped like a head. And if L.A. was shaped like a head, his estate was the crown.

That was Gary's whole attitude to life. It was his way or the highway. And, now that the Hunger Games were happening, Gary cared about the outcome. Sitting in a Starbucks down in the city, Gary always had a disguise on because he didn't want to be recognized. He hated the paparazzi always hounding him wherever he went. As he bit into an apple fritter, he looked up on the TV.

Gary was smart enough to know that if Toon Link killed Jigglypuff, or vice versa, there would not be a very good fight. But Narri was currently half-conscious on the lake and would be absolutely defenseless against the killer of the third place player. And Gary was a lifelong fan of Lucario. So he decided to go to the local sponsorship office in order to change the equation.

Toon Link continued walking through the icy forest, encircling the icy lake. Maybe he should go into the middle of the lake in order to kill the defenseless Narri. But before he could consider this, he thought he heard a rustling sound behind him. Was this another tribute? He could only guess...

Gary Melrose continued to the sponsorship office located in downtown Los Angeles, near Hollywood Boulevard. It was a fitting enough location for it-the three remaining tributes _were_ kind of Hollywood stars, in a sense. And the victor would be a downright celebrity. People in the Capitol would be fawning all over that player, whether it be Jigglypuff, Toon Link, or Narri. Of course, Gary hoped that it would be Narri, since he was kind of a furry. And also because he loved the movie _Curse of the Lucario_.

Gary walked into the office. It was a small room with walls painted minty green. At the desk sat a short man of about ninety. He had glasses, hearing aids, and sparse tufts of white hair on his wrinkled scalp. Gary didn't know if this man would be able to hear what he was saying.

"Anything to get him up and moving", Gary said as loudly and clearly as he could muster.

The old man looked shocked. "Well, what tribute are you sponsoring?", he wheezed.

"Narri".

"That Lucario? In that case, tell me what you want to buy for Narri. But be warned: it's day six, and the final three. You'd better be fucking _loaded_.

"If you want to buy one syringe of adrenaline, that'd be a hundred million dollars. Let me check the balance of your bank account…"

The old man frowned.

"Sorry, Mr. Melrose, you just don't have enough. Seventy-three million, five hundred forty-seven thousand, four hundred forty-four dollars and seventy-seven cents just won't cut it. See if you can pool with another sponsor".

So Gary called his friend, who was the mayor of Boston. Michael Johnson was eating dinner in his townhouse overlooking Boston Harbor when he got a call from his friend.

"Yeah, Gary...whaddaya want? Sponsor Narri? Adrenaline? A hundred mil? Right now? Yeah, sure!"

Mayor Johnson was a bit gung-ho about the whole thing, but why not? He had a net worth of $46 billion, even higher than Donald Trump's. Plus, he really wanted Narri to win even more than Gary Melrose did.

Sure enough, they both contributed fifty million dollars to the sponsor gift.

Narri woke up to a stabbing pain in his left leg. It was worse than when he had gotten run over by Jason Simmons two years before.

At first, he wondered if he was in hell. But no, he was still in the arena. And that pain had only gotten worse. He then noticed a syringe being removed from his arm.

 _Adrenaline,_ he thought, _someone gave me adrenaline._

His heart was beating _very_ quickly, and he was pretty shocked by this. But it willed his legs into action. Narri got up and began sliding away from the Cornucopia. He was going to find somewhere to shelter in place until someone got killed. Then, depending on whether Jigglypuff or Toon Link was killed in third place, he would battle Toon Link or Jigglypuff for the win. He felt better and better about his odds. Definitely better than he had after defeating Marth this morning.

Toon Link was still standing on the beach when he heard someone pushing through the pine trees. Looking around him, he could probably guess who it was. But he didn't want to die now. Not after doing so much to win.

Sure enough, Jigglypuff, with those large teal eyes, was racing towards him, looking absolutely furious with him. Toon Link didn't know why; it hadn't been _his_ fault that the Career alliance of the four of them had been disbanded. It had been that stupid rooster that had gotten in between them and forced them in separate directions. So excuse him if he wasn't Jigglypuff's ally anymore.

Besides that, though, there were only three tributes remaining in the Super Smash Bros. Games. And if Toon Link decided to align with Jigglypuff, in order to kill Narri, it wasn't going to happen. There were going to be no other common enemies, and, as soon as the Aura Pokemon had been defeated, the two of them would be forced to turn on each other. And, if they turned on each other having aligned at the final three, they would each only have themselves to blame for it.

Anyway, Jigglypuff was racing towards Toon Link, no doubt preparing to Rest him into the force field, or the "blast line" in these Games. It would not be a good thing if that happened. Toon Link wanted to win these Games, return to Hyrule, and swim in his riches. But in order to be able to do that, he had to face off against his former ally.

Toon Link nocked an arrow on his bow and tried to shoot Jigglypuff, but the Balloon Pokemon dodged it. Jigglypuff then used Rollout, barely missing its target. Both attacks had flopped, and nothing had happened. Should they gang up on Narri?

TL determinedly looked at Jigglypuff, pulling out a bomb. He knew that he could use this against the little pink puffball, but would it be enough to send her flying into the force field? TL didn't know, and he didn't want to find out the hard way. So he decided to chuck it at Jigglypuff.

This time, Jigglypuff did not get out of the way in time. This meant that Jigglypuff was burned severely by this bomb. He wondered why it didn't kill her immediately, but it worked well enough.

Jigglypuff was now unconscious, having been launched four hundred feet away. There wasn't that much blood, but that was about to change. Since no cannon had been fired, TL knew that she wasn't dead yet, but she would be soon enough. TL would make sure of that.

TL began running towards the unconscious Balloon Pokemon, ready to cut this girl into shreds. He reached Jigglypuff, and hacked away at the teal eyes. It sent cyan liquid flying in all directions. He continued swiping his sword at Jigglypuff's pink body, spreading guts everywhere. It looked like Jigglypuff had turned into cotton candy. Finally, the cannon fired. TL no longer had a reason to continue hacking away at the now-dead Pokemon. Of course, though, it wasn't over yet. TL still had one tribute left to defeat. And he felt that it really had been building up to this the whole time. It was always going to be TL versus Narri in the end. And, if TL wasn't careful, Narri could easily launch him away. TL was probably at 70% or so, but Narri would easily be over 120%, and in _Super Smash Bros._ , when a Lucario has a high damage percentage, it becomes more powerful.

Still, though, he was very confident about his odds.

Toon Link let out a big war cry and began running into the woods.


	16. Chapter 16: The Power Of Aura

Chapter 16: The Power Of Aura

This is it: the final battle! Toon Link vs. Narri! Who will win?

Also: this is a pretty short chapter, but I can't write 5,000-word chapters for final battles, m'kay?

Narri was running away, using the adrenaline to get a boost in order to get as far away as he could, because he still didn't think he was strong enough to fight. He needed sleep, but he couldn't get sleep because of the adrenaline. Again, it might have been kind of a catch-22. But still, though, he was going to try to stay out of the way.

The afternoon wore on, so TL decided that he was going to wait out the night. Somehow, he was going to make it so that Narri would wake him up if he came across him, in which case he was going to have to fight. But he was going to try to catch some Z's.

Not too long after, the death recap came cup. Marth, Falco, Fox, Kirby, and Jigglypuff had all died. The ice arena really had been tough on the tributes. The Gamemakers had made sure of that.

TL decided that he was going to hold out to the morning, no matter what. Whether he liked it or not, he would _have_ to fight Narri tomorrow. The Gamemakers would also make sure of that.

Narri settled down for the night, registering that five tributes had died that day. That was not a shock. He knew that he had himself barely survived day six of these Games; if not for the sponsor gift, he would most likely not be here to think about it. He used his aura abilities to calm himself down, and he eventually fell asleep.

The seventh and final day of the Games dawned. Technically, civil dawn was at _04:35:00, Day 7._ But that didn't matter too much in the arena. All that mattered was for Toon Link to be able to defeat Narri in the battle for the crown.

TL went down to the lake and back to the Cornucopia, convinced that if Narri was hiding, this would be where he would hide. There were still two backpacks left, and, unbeknownst to TL, Narri knew this from yesterday's battle with Marth. Because of this, he wondered whether Narri was simply biding his time until TL came for him, instead of going after him himself.

Narri decided that he would seek confrontation immediately. He walked down to the Cornucopia, figurative swords drawn. He looked ahead of him and saw Toon Link doing the same. They were respectively walking towards each other. It was going to be a fair fight to the death.

"Good morning, Toon Link", Narri said through gritted teeth. He really didn't want to be greeting his adversary in such a friendly way, not before attempting to kill him, but he thought that it would make a good show for the Capitol. And he was all about that.

"Good morning, Narri", Toon Link responded back.

It wasn't long before the little elf boy began running towards Narri, a bomb in his hand. Narri ducked, but he still felt the bomb singe off part of his aura sensing organs. They pulsed very painfully, and Narri knew that they were severely damaged. But he could get them repaired in the Capitol, right? He knew that, if he became the ultimate victor of the Hunger Games, he would be receiving intensive medical treatment until the Gamemakers deemed him fit to make his live appearance. Then, he would watch a three-hour movie of the Games, be interviewed, and then be sent on a luxury train back to Kanto.

But he couldn't dwell on it. First, he had to win these battle.

Narri quickly recovered from this and sent a force palm at Toon Link. It hit him right in the stomach. Toon Link went flying. Unfortunately, though, since Narri was still at only 50%, it didn't do that much. It only sent him back about ten yards, and he got up within ten seconds.

Toon Link continued after Narri and leapt for him. Narri slid out of the way, but then almost immediately felt a very sharp, stinging pain in his stomach.

The area around Narri's chest spike had turned pink. And Narri knew why. It was pink because something red was mixing with his white fur. Hex color #8A0707, when added to #FF0000, made color #BC0404, which was actually a scarlet-like color. This didn't make Narri happy. He knew that he would be losing a lot of blood.

Toon Link continued charging, and, Narri, with the shock of his wound, was unable to get away in time to avoid a gash in his right leg. He howled in pain and then shakily stood.

Toon Link thought he had won. After all, surely Narri was mortally wounded, right? But he didn't take one very important thing into account. Narri was just like Kelly Clarkson; what didn't kill him made him stronger. And with that, Narri stood a little taller and thrust out another force palm.

This time, Toon Link flew into the edge of the lake. He landed on his back on the beach, and Narri knew that his back was almost certainly broken. Now, Toon Link would be completely vulnerable to a finishing blow. Narri began sliding across, because it hurt too much to stand. Belatedly, he realized that he hadn't drunk anything in the last three days. But he couldn't worry about that right now. Even though his mouth was parched, he didn't worry. He knew that the more injured he was, the more powerful all of his attacks would be against Toon Link. And since TL was utterly defenseless after anything Narri attempted, the latter knew that he had a distinct advantage.

After a period of time that felt interminable, Narri finally reached the edge of the lake. By now, his vision was red. Not just from anger, but blood was no doubt in his eyes now. Somehow, though, his eyes were being shielded. Narri couldn't remember getting cut on his head, but he was getting delirious fast. Maybe he had been and just not noticed it.

Narri finally reached the beach. Toon Link had passed out from the pain. If there was ever a time, this was it. He might not get another opportunity. Luckily, Narri knew what to do. Looking at his percentage gauge, he was at 352% damage. That was far higher than his aura usually allowed; normally, it did not go past 180%. But maybe yesterday's injection of adrenaline would have done something for him. In any case, it was about to find out.

Narri extended his palms and used force palm.

Toon Link flew so far that he was shown hitting the screen of all viewers. He fell, dead, as the cannon fired.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I announce...the winner of the Super Smash Bros. Hunger Games...Narri!"

Narri barely had enough energy to celebrate. He could only throw his arms up, noticing a hovercraft descending from up above. This hovercraft would return him to the Capitol. All his wounds would be treated.

But, as stated above, Narri had no time to celebrate before sinking to the ground in a dead faint.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Aftermath

When Narri woke, he was in a small chamber. He heard the droning of an engine, which could only mean one thing: he was now inside the hovercraft.

He was in a hospital bed, and they had sure taken a lot of measures. Normally, they would have taken a urine sample in order to find out how dehydrated he was, but since he had been unconscious, Narri could only guess that they had catheterized him, based on the pain he felt in his...area.

There were IVs in both of his arms, delivering fluid. He needed it. He hadn't been drinking water for days, and he had been through a lot. He was exhausted, but also relieved as soon as what had just happened went through his mind once again.

Narri had won the Hunger Games! He'd done it! He had faced up against twenty-three other Smashers, and yet he had still come out on top. He would have given himself a pat on the back, except there were restraining bands that kept his arms from moving more than about six inches.

His entire body looked like a battlefield. His leg wound had been stitched up, so he was not going to be running marathons anytime soon. Not like he did that anyways. But still.

The wound on his chest had also just been stitched up. His chest spike appeared to have been given a new coat of paint. It looked like it had just been to the dentist, if it had been a tooth. And speaking of his teeth, it looked like they had also been taken care of while he was out.

There were three electrodes (not the Pokemon, the medical equipment), on his stomach, recording his heart rate. They were making sure it returned back to normal; the adrenaline was still not fully out of his system.

Narri saw a camera recording what was going on. They were making sure he didn't attempt to escape. He snorted. _Really?_ The Capitol was so fucking paranoid that they had to record a restrained, injured Lucario from trying to escape a probably well-guarded hovercraft.

Late in the afternoon, the hovercraft finally arrived back in the Capitol. Narri's hospital bed was wheeled out of it, and he was taken to an underground hospital room, where, after being given a full physical checkup, he was allowed to proceed to a launch pad.

"Oh, but one thing", the lead doctor, Dr. Hans, said.

Narri looked back at the doctor. He liked this man. He had round glasses and appeared to be in his late fifties. He was pretty handsome, too, but he pushed that thought out of his mind. He couldn't mate with this man; he'd be mating with Pip, one of the other Lucario in his home village back in Kanto.

"You're still not out of the woods. You have a couple more hours to go on the antibiotics, and we want to get this show on the road as soon as possible, so…"

"What are you saying", Narri asked the man.

"I'm saying that you need to take your IV onto the stage with you. You're not fully healed. The Capitol will see that you fought. They'll remember you for that".

"Remember me... _for centuries_ ".

"That's right", Dr. Hans said. "Now get up there and put on a show".

Normally, the victors were made up by their stylists. But Narri didn't wear clothes, and any attempt to change his style would disrupt the intravenous line in his arm. So they just dealt with it. Besides, this way, all of his battle scars would be available for the world to see. Narri liked this, honestly. It would show that he wasn't invincible. He'd survived these Games, but one day, he would die.

The host, Caesar Flickerman, was taken aback by Narri's appearance. But instead of appearing embarrassed, the Lucario just smiled.

"Not the grandiose appearance you were expecting, is it?", Narri asked the man.

"Well...I didn't expect the IV. We're kind of on a compressed schedule, so…"

"No, that's fine", Narri said, "I just want to get on with it and go home".

The audience laughed at this. Narri found it a bit insensitive; he _was_ telling the truth about this. He really did want to go home. But first he had to sit through the customary three-hour film that served as a recap of the Hunger Games. Narri decided to have Caesar not interview him now, and instead have him provide commentary on what was going on in the movie. Caesar obliged, and he turned on the film.

Narri was provided an elaborate throne to sit on. This throne was traditionally made out of pine bark and human bones. This represented two things; one, that you had to live off the land in order to even have a chance at winning the Hunger Games. Two, the victor was sitting on a pile of their dead comrades.

Narri was given the victor's necklace. A different necklace had been produced for each tribute in case they were the winner. Narri's necklace was navy blue in color, with black dabs in front to represent his aura-sensing organs. This was instead of a crown, as had been done in previous years.

Narri sat back and enjoyed the movie.

The first thing they showed was the Smashers being randomly teleported from their home worlds. In Narri's case, he had been travelling with a group of college-age Lucario around Kanto. When they had hit Saffron City, though, Narri had disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The whole audience laughed when Fox was teleported while having sex with Krystal.

The film showed the training scores. Narri had only gotten a five, but he hadn't let it get him down. Training scores really only mattered when sponsors got involved, and, other than that, having a high score was a liability because it could mean that other tributes would see you as a threat and therefore target you.

Eventually, they got into the bloodbath, and Narri gave his first words.

"I just studied past competitions and realized that the winners, if not Careers, typically had run from the Cornucopia at the very beginning. I decided to just rely on rich sponsors. And here I am", he said, thumping the necklace on his chest. Thankfully, the necklace had a hole for his chest spike.

The film intermixed between tributes, showing Sonic's mishap with the frozen pizza and the subsequent sponsor intervention that ultimately saved his life, until Narri was bitten by a ladybug muttation. It showed the smoking, stinky wound, and Narri injecting himself with the antidote. It played up how he was refusing to give up in the face of adversity.

The movie then showed the third morning's Italian feast, which Narri shared amicably with Fox and Falco. Yes, he later vomited it all up, but still. "It was good while it lasted", said Narri, causing another roar of guffaws from the audience.

Narri's first kill had been Donkey Kong, and they had shown that. For the next hour and a half, the movie intermixed between the other tributes, with Narri occasionally providing a few words for the crowd. It only began focusing on Narri again once the arena froze over on the sixth morning of the Games.

Narri had woken up shivering and gone to fight Marth. Aside from Toon Link, Marth had come the closest of anything to killing Narri. And yet he had still failed. Narri had lain there, unconscious and becoming hypothermic, before eventually getting the adrenaline boost and running out of there.

And then, the final battle with Toon Link. Despite his various bloody wounds, he had succeeded in defeating the young elf boy. And to think that it all happened this morning!

"And that's where we are today!", Caesar Flickerman shouted for the crowd. "I give you, ladies and gentlemen, the victor of the 99th Hunger Games...NARRI!"

Caesar lifted Narri's good arm up, as he saluted the crowd.

After the movie was over, Narri was hounded by people who wanted to ask him questions. He remained onstage, though. He wanted the people who _really_ wanted to ask questions to show that they wanted it by waiting in a line that went out the door. They really liked this Aura Pokemon.

Finally, at about three in the morning, Caesar Flickerman pulled him aside, because he really didn't need to be asking questions anymore. Dr. Hans took out his IV, and he was given one final checkup, before, just as the first orange streaks of morning began lightening up the sky, he was taken aboard a luxurious locomotive that would take him safely back to Kanto. Of course, after winning the Games, he had earned it. After nearly freezing to death, he deserved this comfort.

Narri looked around his private quarters. This would be a very good place to sleep, so he was happy about that. His bed was a four-poster with jungle green canopies, so it was just like those at Hogwarts. His sheets were already made, and he probably had a few hours until breakfast.

He didn't think that, with all of this excitement and relief, he would be able to sleep. He was wrong.

Narri was woken up a couple of hours later to the sound of a man saying, "Get up! It's time for breakfast!"

Narri got out of bed and showered as quickly as he could. He got to the breakfast table about five minutes late, and the escort, a squat man who looked about forty-five, did not appear happy with him. But, of course, he _was_ the victor. So the escort gestured for Narri to help himself.

This was a full-on celebratory banquet. There were four buffet tables. One contained cereal and fruit. The second contained pancakes, waffles, and toast, while the third contained ham, bacon, and sausages. The fourth contained rolls, donuts, and other pastries. Narri hadn't seen such a great spread ever since he had stayed that night in the mansion. But he wasn't going to complain. He dug in.

This was how the routine went as Narri was taken back to Kanto. The trip took two days, during which Narri tried to catch up on his sleep; after all, he was still recovering from life-threatening injuries.

Finally, the locomotive pulled into Kanto South Station. This station was located about fifty miles southwest of the sanctuary in which Narri lived. Since Pokemon travelled with their trainers all the time, no one gave him any unwanted attention. The only exception was the occasional group of paparazzi who wanted to take pictures. But Narri was otherwise ignored as he walked down the platform and into a waiting limousine.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Narri reached the sanctuary. Along the way, they had stopped for five interviews, so it had taken a good five hours to get back. Since it was Kanto's winter, the sun was already sinking behind the distant hills. Narri was hounded by the residents of his village, but he went straight past them and headed for the hot springs. This was his favorite spot in the whole village, and he often soaked in them when he liked to relax. This was one of those times.

As the first stars began to show, Narri got out of the springs. He nearly fainted-he was still weak, and not used to being in the hot springs for extended periods of time. He went back home to his family and ate dinner. And by the next morning, he was pretty much back to normal.

Sleep still brought nightmares, and it probably would for years to come. But he would work on it. He would find diversions during the daytime in order for him to get through the nighttime. He could do that.

The next morning,the second since the Games ended, he went to the Southern Kanto Bank Vault. He looked for his family name-oh wait, he didn't have one. Instead, he was led by the teller to his vault, an underground room that was accessible by a staircase that looked as though it was on an industrial ferry. He was led to his new fortune, a grand prize of an insanely massive amount of money. It would be enough to buy a mansion within the sanctuary, of which there were only four, reserved for the governors. But that problem had been solved already.

Narri had been taken to a facility where he had been given a brain scan for thirty minutes. During this time, his thoughts were used to build his dream house, which he had earned by winning the Games.

As Narri got up off the bed, he was looking forward to seeing what the house of his dreams looked like. He took a taxi back to the sanctuary, and, after it was verified that he wasn't wearing any clothes (Pokemon were required to be naked when in the sanctuary), he was allowed to enter. He walked up to his former house, and...it was gone.

In its place was the most beautiful mansion that Narri had ever seen. It appeared to be five stories, with crimson sides and golden yellow trim. It looked like the Palace Of Shadow from _Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door_ , if that palace had been converted into a single-family home.

Narri walked into the entry way and looked around the room.

The ceiling was twelve feet high, and the walls contained 100 portraits of him wearing the victor's necklace. Ten artists had painted ten portraits apiece. Most did not contain Caesar Flickerman or the IV in his left arm.

The living room was also beautiful, and the staircase contained pictures from his life. So did the rest of the rooms, even the bathrooms. It was as if the mansion was a museum honoring him. Which it essentially was.

He checked his bedroom last, which had a large light blue four-poster bed. There was a rug shaped like his head in the middle.

And the gaming room was absolutely amazing-he had a Wii, a Wii U, a 3DS, a DS, a laptop, a desktop, and an iPad. He was very glad he had won. As great as this gift was, nothing was more valuable than his life.

A week passed.

Narri was now rarely stopped on the street. He had largely returned to his normal life in the sanctuary, relaxing in the hot springs and flirting with Pip, his girlfriend.

A month passed.

By now, Narri had blown through most of his savings. He had bought a second mansion near the water, four motorboats, and a company called _Veltuca Co._ , which made Pokeballs. He expected the money to continue rolling in, but the company was not popular enough and closed down less than three months after it opened.

A year passed.

Narri was now flat broke and the pariah of his village. He was the ultimate example of someone who thought they were financially invincible after winning a shit-ton of money, and then thrown it all away. One day, he walked inside his mansion and thought, _Is this really the life I want to live?_ He decided, eventually, to downsize.

He had his mansion torn down and replaced with a small house, like the one he had lived in before participating in the Hunger Games.

Five years passed.

By now, Narri had largely redeemed himself in the eyes of his neighbors. He had decided to marry Pip, and eventually, he would have children with her. But that's another story.

Some days, Narri enjoyed walking down a mountain pass near the hot springs. He thought about what he had been given in his life. But the most important gift of all _was_ his life.

THE END


End file.
